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LIFE OF ALGERNON SIDNEY. 



LIFE 



^, 



OF 



r '^^y-^ 



ALGERNON SIDNEY; 



WITH 



SKETCHES OF SOME OF HIS CONTEMPORARIES AND 

EXTRACTS FROM HIS CORRESPONDENCE AND 

POLITICAL WRITINGS. 



BY 



y 



G. VAN SANTYOOED 




NEW YOEK: 

CHARLES SCRIBNER, 145 NASSAU STREET. 
1851. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the j'ear 1851, by 

CHARLES SCRIBNER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 

District ot New York. 



THE LIBRARY 
OF C ONGI ^ESS 

WA8HINGT01I 



C. W. BENEDICT, 

Stereotyper and Printer^ 

•201 William St., N. Y. 



/fvi' 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I 



a 



Family of Sidney— His birth and early education— Travels with 
his father on the Continent — Goes to France — Returns to Eng- 
land in 1641 — Commencement of the Civil War — Appointed to 
the command of a Troop in Ireland— Serves in Ireland— Returns ^ 
to England in 1643— His political sentiments at this time — ■ 
Enters into the service of Parliament — Appointed a Colonel un- 
der Manchester — Battle of Naseby— Sidney wounded, and sent to 
London— Appointed Governor of Chichester — Retires from ac- 
tive service — Progress of the Civil War — ^I'he Independents get 
control of the army — Appointed Colonel under Fairlax — Elected 
Member of Long Parliament— Goes with his brother to Ireland 
Appointed Lieutenant-General and Governor of Dublin— Service 
in Ireland — His return— Receives the thanks ,' of Parliament — 
Apointed Governer of Dover Castle — Reflections on his military 
career 20 

CHAPTER II. 

The Long Parliament — Its history — Difficulty attending the elec- 
tion of new members — Sidney elected from Cardiff— Does not 
take an active part in its delit)erations — Events which led to the 
trial of the Kmg — Conference with the King at the Isle of Wight 
— Treacheious conduct of Charles — •' Pride^s purge" — Proceedings 
to bring the King to trial — Sidney nominated one of the commis- 
sioners — Declines to sit — His reasons — His opinions of the King's 
guilt — Reflections on the trial and execution of the King — Con- 
duct of the judges— Sidney retires to Penshurst — Returns to Lon- 
don after the King's death — Resumes his seat in Parliament, and 
sustains the government — Establishment of the Commonwealth 
— Installation of the new Council of State — Sidney opposes the 
"test" oath in Parliament— Difficulty with Cromwell— Question 
respecting the dissolution of Parliament — Sidney a member of 
the committee to which it was referred — Labors of the commit- 
tee — Subject referred to committee of the whole— Difficulty be- 
tween Sidney and his oflicers— Resigns the command of Dover — 
Visits Holland— Quarrels with the Earl of Oxford— Returns to 
England and resumes his parliamentary duty — Appointed on va- 
rious committees — His colh^agues— Vigor of the Commonwealth 
government — Sidney's account of it— Ambition of Cromwell — 
His hostility to Sidney — Contest between the military and civil 
power — The Republicans oppose Cromwell — Plan of the Repub- 



Till CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER YIII. 

Pack 
Arraignment of Sidney — Lord Jeffries and his associates — Sidney 
excepts to the indictment — His exceptions overruled — Oppressive 
conduct of the Court — Sidney forced to plead to the indictment 
and remanded to prison — Appears at the bar of the King's Bench 
for trial — Means taken to secure his conviction — Selection and 
character of the jury — The judge refuses him a challenge — 
Sidney demands counsel and is refused — The trial — Oppressive 
■ and tyrannical conduct of the Court — The evidence — Its insuffi- 
cient nature — Objections of Sidney — They are overruled by the 
Court — Lord Howard of Escrick — His character — His evidence 
— Testimony of Foster and Atterbury — The writings of Sidney 
introduced in evidence — Defence of the prisoner — His objections 
overruled by the Court — He introduces testimony — Impeachment 
of Lord Howard — Contest with the Court— Brutal conduct of 
Jeffries — Sidney's argument to the jury — Speech of the Solicitor 
General — Charge of the Judue — Verdict of the jury — Surrender 
of the Duke of Monmouth after the trial — Hopes of a new trial 
— Petition of Sidney to the king — Its lailure — Sentence of Sidney 
— Scene between the prisoner and the Court — Heroic conduct of 
Sidney — Condemned to be executed — Petition of Sidney to the 
king to commute his sentence to banishment — Is refused — His 
fortitude and resolution in his last hours— Description of his exe- 
cution by the sheriff— Is beheaded — Buried at Penshurst — Reflec- 
tions upon his trial, condemnation, and execution, .... 235 

CHAPTER IX. 

The writings of Sidney — Introductory remarks — Extracts — Com- 
mon notions of liberty are derived from nature — Men are by na- 
ture free— Choice of forms of government originally left to the 
people — The social contract considered— Such as enter into society 
in some degree diminish their liberty — The natural equality of 
man — Virtue only gives a preference of one man to another — 
There is no hereditary right of dominion — Men join together and 
frame greater or less societies, and give them, such forms and laws 
as they please — They who have the right of choosing a king, 
have the right of making a king— As 1o the forms of government 
— Those best which comprise the three simple elements — Democ- 
racy considered — Sidney in favor of a popular or mixed govern- 
ment — Civil governments admit of changes in their superstruc- 
ture — Man's natural love of liberty is tempered by reason — 
Seditions, tumults, and wars considered— In what cases justified — 
When necessary to overthrow a tyianny, or depose a wicked 
magistrate — The right of insurrection traced to the social con- 
.tract — The contracts between the magistrates and the nations 
which created them were real, solemn, and obligatory — Same 
subject continued — The general revolt of a nation cannot be 
trailed a rebellion— Duties of magistrates as representatives of 
the people — No people that is. not free can substitute delegates — 
The lepresentative system — Legislative power not to be trusted 
in the hands of any who are not bound to obey the laws they 
anake — Keflections on the writings and political opinions of Sid- 
aiey — The sincerity of his motives — His religious sentiments — 
His private cKaiuctei — Conclusion, 284 



INTEODUCTORY CHAPTER 

The history of England, whence our language, our 
literature, our common law, and some of our noblest 
elementary institutions are derived, is second, in in- 
terest, only to the history of our own country. It is, 
in one sense, a part of our own history. The ances- 
tors of the men who achieved the American Revolu- 
tion fought at Teuton and at Bosworth field ; they sat 
in the parliament of Henry VIII. and of Elizabeth. 
Between the period of the first settlement of the colo- 
nies and the era of American Independence, our own 
history is not only intimately blended with that of the 
mother country, but forms part of it. Separated by 
the waters of an ocean we were still one people, bound 
together by a community of interest as well as a com- 
mon language, common laws, and a common line- 
age. To us, then, the history of the British em- 
pire, the changes in its government, the progress of 
its civilization, its political and social revolutions, and 
above all, the character and genius of the men who 
wrought these great changes and revolutions, must 



10 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

always remain a subject not only of pleasing interest 
but of the most instructive study. 

No portion of the annals of England deserves a 
more close and discriminating perusal in a country 
where the principles of republicanism are established as 
the fundamental basis of government, than that which 
records the remarkable event commonly called the Re- 
volution. It properly embraces a period of nearly half 
a century ; commencing with the rupture between 
Charles I. and his parliament in the year 1640, and 
ending with the expulsion of James II., and the elec- 
tion of "William and Mary to the throne, by the par- 
liament, in the year 1688. The first twenty years 
of this preiod is, undoubtedly, to the republican reader, 
the most striking chapter of English history, com- 
prising, as it does, the record of the downfall of the 
ancient monarchy — the solemn judgment of the peo- 
ple upon a king once almost absolute — the temporary 
triumph of free principles — the establishment of a 
republic, and its overthrow by a military usurper. It 
was a period rife with momentous events — fertile of 
remarkable men. The events of that period have 
been much misunderstood even on this side the 
Atlantic ; the really great men — the republicans who 
sought to elevate the people by the establishment of 
civil and religious liberty, have been misrepresented, 
or what is, perhaps, equally unjust, have been passed 
over in contemptuous silence. It is true, the names 
of the illustrious commoners, Pym and Hampden, 
stand out prominent upon the annals of ^that age ; 



INTRODUCTORY. 11 

and so do those of the victorious soldiers, Cromwell, 
Fairfax, Ireton, and their associates, who headed 
the parliamentary army. The most zealous royalist 
has not been able to trace the history of those times, 
and follow the mighty events which the revolution 
developed, without assigning to each a place, a cha- 
racter, and a name. But the less prominent sphere 
of action of the statesmen and civilians, who estab- 
lished and sustained the Republic, has not been 
thought worthy the same particularity of narrative ; 
and we have been left to estimate their characters, not 
so much from a faithful record of their lives and 
actions, as from the partial and unjust judgment 
pronounced upon them, unheard, by writers, who, like 
Hume, have shared the opinions, and drawn so largely 
from the narrative of that vengeful and bigoted 
royalist, Lord Clarendon. Thus, some of the purest 
and noblest statesmen that England, or the world, has 
produced, have been neglected and forgotten, or, if 
remembered, and a place assigned them on the page 
of history, have been remembered only to have their 
characters misunderstood, and their opinion con- 
demned or execrated. To many readers, even in our 
own country, scarcely anything more than the mere 
names are known of such men as Vane, Bradshaw, 
St. John, Scott, Marten, Ludlow, and Sidney ; to the 
great majority of their own countrymen, for more 
than a century and a half, most of them have ap- 
peared merely as rebels, fanatics, and traitors ! It is 
the peculiar province of biography to correct the 



12 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

errors, as well as the defects, of general history, m 
respect to the characters of eminent individuals, and 
to rescue from unmerited neglect and oblivion, the 
memory of great and good men, who have deserved 
well of their country and posperity. The present 
biography is undertaken with this view. It aims at 
no higher object than to rescue from obscurity and 
unmerited neglect, the name, the opinions, and the 
public acts of one of those noble Republican states- 
men whose memory deserves to be cherished forever 
by the lovers of liberty. 

I design to sketch the main incidents in the life 
and public career of ALGERNOiN Sidney, so far as they 
are now known, or can be gathered from history, or 
contemporary annals. I shall present such extracts 
from his letters, (many of which have been pre- 
served,) and, also, from his other writings, as will 
serve to illustrate his character, his opinions, and his 
history ; and, in order the more fully to appreciate 
his true position and character. I shall notice, inciden- 
tally, some of his republican contemporaries and asso- 
ciates, who labored with him in the same glorious 
cause. Sidney lived in the stirring period of which I 
have spoken ; he was an actor in the drama of the 
Kevolution ; he commanded a regiment against the 
king, under the lead of Manchester and Cromwell ; 
he was a member of that famous legislative assembly, 
known in history as the long parliament ; he was 
appointed a member of the commission to try the 
king, and though he did not act in that capacity, yet 



INTEODUCTORY. 13 

he never disavowed the principle of the men who sat 
with John Bradshaw in that tribunal which con- 
demned Charles Stuart to death ; he was the friend of 
Bradshaw, of Yane, of Milton, of the best and wisest 
men of the age : with them he resisted, in vain, the 
usurpation of Cromwell ; when, upon the restoration 
of Charles IL, liberty was proscribed from England, 
he chose banishment rather than submission to 
tyranny ; and when, after a period of seventeen 
years of voluntary exile, he returned to his native 
country, it was not to recant an opinion, or seek the 
favor of government by an abject confession of past 
error ; but to maintain, silently, the doctrines of his 
life, and, if necessary, to die rather than renounce 
them. 

Sidney was a pure and enlightened republican 
statesman. Like Vane, he died on the scaffold, faith- 
ful among the faithless, and bearing witness in his 
death to the truth of the principles he maintained 
with inflexible constancy through life. Had he no 
other history than this, his name and memory should 
be cherished by the friends of free institutions. But 
he has a higher claim on the admiration of posterity. 
It is not merely in the silent teachings of his fortitude 
upon the scaffold, in his heroic constancy and truth 
to republican principles, that he has left a salutary 
impression upon the world. His precepts, even more 
than his example, have been eminently favorable to 
the progress of liberty and free institutions. The 
written words he left behind him — those philosophical 



14: ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

reflections upon liberty and free institutions — that 
graceful and conclusive argument in favor of popular 
government which his elaborate " Discourses" con- 
tain, are a rich legacy, bequeathed by a master mind, 
to his countrymen and the world. 

Not only was Sidney a Republican statesman and 
patriot, but he was a philosopher, scholar, and man 
of genius. His writings, so little appreciated, and, 
indeed, in our day so little known, were, at one time, 
extensively read and widely influential. The " Dis- 
courses on Grovernment" was a political text-book 
with the fathers of our Republic, and the men who 
achieved the American Revolution. Their influence 
upon the minds of the first statesmen of that age 
is plainly apparent. Between the views of Sidney, 
and the political doctrines laid down in the Declara- 
tion of Independence, a striking resemblance can be 
traced ; indeed, they are almost identical. A dis- 
tinguished American statesman,* criticising the pre- 
amble to that Declaration, which he calls a "hypo- 
thetical truism," traces it directly, as an abstract pro- 
piisition, to the writings of Sidney and Locke. So 
much for the influence which th^se writings have had 
upon the minds of our own statesmen, and inciden- 
tally upon the political character of our government 
It may be added, that their influence has extended 
even to other lands. At the dawn of the French 

* The late John C. Calhoun. It is proper to add, however, that Mr. 
Calhoun's criticism is merely verbal. We do not understand him as 
dissenting from the general principle of political equality and rights 
laid down in the Declaration. 



INTRODUCTORY. 15 

Revolution, when the principles of popular liberty- 
were minutely investigated by the keenest intellects 
of the age, Sidney's Discourses were republished, and, 
with the writings of Rousseau, contributed to the 
awakening of the revolutionary mind of France. 

These writings, once so highly prized as to be 
thought adequate to supply the loss of Cicero's six 
books de Republican have, in our day, sunk into 
obscurity, if not oblivion. Perhaps they have ful- 
filled their mission, and, with the writings of Bacon, 
have become obsolete, and are passing away. It 
may be so ; but their influence, like the thoughts of 
Bacon, will live for ages to come. Nor is the task an 
unpleasing one to remove the dust of three quarters 
of a century from these almost forgotten volumes, 
and to bring them anew before the public. If not a 
study of practical utility in an age like ours, so rich 
in lessons of political philosophy, and in the science 
of government so far in advance of the age in which 
Sidney wrote, still it cannot fail to be a matter of 
curiosity to note the bold speculations, as well as just 
conclusions, of a political writer, educated under an 
arbitrary government like that of Charles I. ; and 
who, if not the very first, was amongst the foremost 
in modern Europe to assert and defend the funda- 
mental doctrines of political liberty ; and our curi- 
osity is enhanced, and our interest increased, by the 
reflection that we are perusing the words which 
awakened the intellect, and confirmed the political 
faith, of the sages of our own Revolution. The ven- 



16 ALGEKXON SID^TIT. 

erable John Adams, in his elaborate and now ahnost 
forgotten treatise in ilefenee of '• the Constitutions of 
Govern inent o( the Ignited States of America,'' pub- 
lished in London in the year 17S8, speaking of these 
Discourses o{ Sidney, in connection wirh the writings 
of Harrington, ^lilton, Locke, and other champions 
o{ popular government, says, '' Americans should 
make collections of all these speculations, to be pre- 
served as the most precious relics of antiquity, both 
for curiosity and use. There is one indispensable 
rule io be observed in the perusal of all of them, and 
that is to consider the period in which they were 
written, the circumstances of the times, and the per- 
sonal character as well as the political situation of the 
writer." 

Another reilecrion may here be properly made. It 
is one calculated still further to enhance the value of 
this last legacy of Sidney to his countrymen. He 
literally proved a martyr, and died for the principles 
advocated in these Discourses. A portion of them, 
or of similar works, found in manuscript in his closet, 
was produced as evidence against him on his trial, as 
we shall see when we come to speak more particularly 
of that event. Two witnesses were necessary, by the 
hiw of England, in order to convict for treason. Only 
one was found against Sidney, and these manuscripts 
were held equivalent to another I To the modest 
remonstrance that there was nothing treasonable in 
the writings, the Chief Justice Jewries, replied, 
** There is not a line in it scarce, but what is trea- 



INTEODUCTOEY. 17 

son ;" and immediately added, " That is the worst part 
of your case. When men become so riveted in their 
opinions as to maintain that kings may be deposed, 
that they are accountable to their people, and that a 
general insurrection is no rebellion, and justify it, it 
is high time, upon my word, to call them to ac- 
count." 

And, for holding opinions like these, but little 
more than a century and a half ago in England, 
Algernon Sidney was found guilty of high treason, 
and adjudged to die I But the principles for which 
he suffered did not die with him. A few years later 
they were asserted, and triumphantly maintained, in 
that Revolution which drove the tyrant James from 
his throne. The king was deposed^ and called to 
account by the people ; and not only was the general 
insurrection^ which Sidney had truly held to be no 
rebellion, solemnly legalized, but the original compact 
between the monarch and his subjects was recognized 
by act of Parliament. It was not until after this 
memorable event, during the reign of William and 
Mary, and in the year 1698, that the " Discourses on 
Grovernment" were first published, and read by Eng- 
lish statesmen. 

The name of Algernon Sidney is not an obscure 
one. Associated with that of Russell, as a martyr 
for liberty, it has come down with honor to our day. 
Yet the remark previously made holds true, that we 
are able to derive from general history but an imper- 
fect view of the career, the opinions, and the cha- 



18 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

racter of this eminent republican. Tradition, rather 
than history, has preserved the memory of his virtues 
and his genius. Hume makes mention of him as a 
'' singular person," wedded to his one idea of a re- 
public. He gives a very fair and impartial account 
of his trial and condemnation, which he justly con- 
siders a blemish upon the administration ; but, it is 
evident that Hume, if he understood, was not the 
man to appreciate such a character as that of Sidney. 
Other historians occasionally allude to him ; but with 
the exception of his trial, we find nowhere any cir- 
cumstantial account of his private life or public 
career, save in the brief and imperfect sketch by 
Collins in his " Memoirs of the Sidneys," printed in 
1746, and in the narrative of an enthusiastic admirer, 
Mr. Meadley, published in London in the year 1813 ; 
a work, we imagine, never much known among us, 
and now almost forgotten on this side of the Atlantic. 
To these may be added the " Brief Memoir" by 
Richard Chase Sidney, also published in London, con- 
taining the substance of Meadley's narrative, with a 
short account of Sidney's trial, and a description of 
StephanofF's celebrated painting of that event. These, 
we believe, are all the writers who have as yet under- 
taken to sketch the life of this celebrated man. The 
materials for a complete biography are, therefore, not 
very abundant. The most valuable, as well as reli- 
able, are those, which are to be found in the large 
volume containing his " Discourses," published at 
the same time with Harrington's " Oceana." In 



INTEODUCTOET. 19 

this volume we find all his letters which had 
then been discovered,* — the paper containing his de- 
fence, which he delivered to the sheriff on Tower 
Hill — his admirable " Apology," written just, before 
his execution, and a minute and circumstantial ac- 
count of his trial and condemnation. From these 
papers, together with the account of such writers and 
historians as have made mention of him, we are to 
gather the facts necessary to present a connected 
account of his life and public career, and which will 
enable us the better to appreciate the character of his 
genius, the constancy and heroism of his nature, and 
the singular inflexibility of his purpose and opinions. 

* The two works above mentioned contain extracts from other let- 
ters of Sidney, discovered subsequently to the publication of the edition 
of 1772. 



CHAPTEK I. 

Family of Sidney — His Birth and Early Education — Travels with his 
Father on the Continent — Goes to France — Returns to England in 
1641 — Commencement of the Civil War — Appointed to the Command 
of a Troop in Ireland— Serves in Ireland— Returns to England in 1643 
— His Political Sentiments at this Time — Enters into the Service of 
Parliament — Appointed a Colonel under Manchester — Battle of 
Naseby — Sidney Wounded, and sent to London — Appointed Governor 
of Chichester — Retires from Active Service— Progress of the Civil 
War— The Independents get Control of the Army — Sidney ap- 
pointed Colonel under Fairfax — Elected Member of Long Parliament 
— Goes with his Brother to Ireland — Appointed Lieutenant- General 
and Governor of Dublin — Service in Ireland — His Return-^-Receives 
the Thanks of Parliament — Appointed Governor of Dover Castle — 
Reflections on his Military Career. 

The family of Algernon SiDNEY=^,\yas one of the most 
ancient and honorable in England. • It was a branch 
of the old Norman aristocracy. His ancestor, Sir 
"William Sidney, in the reign of Henry II., had accom- 
panied the king from Anjou, as his chamberlain. A 

* The name is " Sydney^^ as found subscribed to his published letters. 
It is so also subscribed by Sir Philip Sidney to his will. Sir Philip, as 
a correspondent, wrote it " Sidney" or " Sydney," as the fancy of the 
moment prevailed with him. The former appears to be the modem 
orthography, which I have preferred to retain. 



CHAPTER I. 21 

lineal descendant of this Sir William Sidney, of the 
same name, was tutor to Edward YI., who, in the 
year 1552, rewarded his services with the forfeited 
park and manor of Penshurst in Kent. This was the 
family seat of the Sidneys. Here resided Sir Henry 
Sidney, the son and heir of the last Sir William, for 
many years Grovernor of Ireland, and a name honorably 
mentioned in history. His eldest son was the cele- 
brated Sir Philip Sidney, author of the pastoral 
romance of Arcadia, the favorite of Queen Elizabeth, 
and nephew to Dudley the powerful Earl of Leicester, 
who feasted the Queen in his castle of Kenilworth, 
and, it said, aspired to the hand of his royal mistress. 

Sir Philip Sidney was mortally wounded at the 
battle of Zutphen, and dying a few days afterwards, 
the family estate passed to his brother Robert, who was 
created by James I. Baron Sidney of Penshurst, and 
subsequently Viscount Lisle and Earl of Leicester. 
This nobleman was succeeded in 1626 by his son 
Robert, the second Earl of Leicester of this family, 
and the father of Algernon Sidney. Lord Leicester 
was married in the year 1618 to Dorothy, eldest 
daughter of the Earl of Northumberland. He was a 
nobleman of great distinction, and much employed in 
diplomatic and other public business during the reign 
of Charles I. 

Algernon Sidney, born in the year 1622, was the 
second son of this nobleman. He was named after 
his maternal uncle, Algernon,* Lord Percy. His 

* The name seems originally to have been written Algernoon. 



22 ALGERITON SIDNEY. 

early education, the best and most accomplished that 
the times afforded , was carefully conducted by his 
father, who himself was a man of extensive and varied 
acquirements. In 1632, the Earl of Leicester was 
sent ambassador to Denmark. He took with him his 
two eldest sons, Philip, Lord Lisle, and Algernon, in 
order that he might the more carefully superintend 
their education. After an absence of three months, 
during which time he visited various courts and cities 
on the continent, he returned to England. In the 
year 1636 he was appointed ambassador extraordinary 
to France. Still pursuing his design of personally 
superintending the education of his sons, and of giving 
them every advantage of study and travel, he again per- 
mitted them to accompany him on his mission. The 
mind of young Sidney was rapidly maturing, and the 
progress he made in his studies repaid the utmost care 
and attention of his father. He was distinguished, 
even at this early period of life for his placid and 
manly temper and his sprightly wit. In a letter 
written about this time by his mother to her husband, 
she mentions with evident pride the favorable reports 
that some friends who had lately returned from Paris 
brought with them concerning her son, that " he had 
a huge deal of wit, and much sweetness of temper." 
The serenity of temper and the calm and placid dis- 
position which characterized Sidney in his later as 
well as his earlier years, are said to have been strik- 
ingly exhibited in the features of his portrait at Pens- 



CHAPTEE I. 23 

hurst, painted at Brussels, in 1663, and forwarded 
thence by him to his father. 

The Earl of Leicester remained several years in 
France. During this time Algernon visited Rome, 
then under the government of the Pontiff Urban VIL, 
where he resided some time. In 1689, the earl 
returned to England on a temporary visit, and was 
present at the marriage of his eldest daughter Dorothy, 
the Sacharissa of the poet "Waller.* This lady was 
married to Lord Spencer, afterwards Earl of Sunder- 
land, who was killed in the civil wars at the battle of 
Newbury. His son, the nephew of Sidney, was that 
Earl of Sunderland who was distinguished in the 
councils of Charles IL The celebrated Marquis of 
Halifax, whose name is so well known as a statesman 
and politician of the same reign, was also a nephew of 
Sidney by marriage. 

The Earl soon after returned to Paris, where it 
seems his son Algernon remained, closely engaged 
in the prosecution of his studies. Being designed for 
the army, an application was now made on his behalf 
by his uncle, the Earl of Northumberland, to the Prince 
of Orange, for a commission in the Dutch service, but 
the commission having been previously disposed of, 
young Sidney was obliged to remain without employ- 

* Dr. Johnson states that Waller's verses did not subdue the high- 
born and beautiful lady, who rejected the addresses of the humble poet 
with disdain. In her old age, meeting somewhere with Waller, she 
asked him when he would again write such verses upon her. " When 
you are as young, Madame," said he, "and as handsome as you were 
then " 



24 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

ment in Paris, till the final return of his father to 
England, in the autumn of the year 1641. 

It was at this period, the most eventful crisis in 
English history, that his active life commenced. The 
Long Parliament had been in session a year, and the 
seeds of that great revolution which was about to 
convulse England were fast taking root. Pym had 
brought forward his famous accusation against the 
Earl of Strafford, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and the 
head of that unfortunate minister had rolled from the 
scaffold, a victim to the popular justice, or the popular 
vengeance. The successor chosen to take the place of 
Strafford in the government of Ireland, was the Earl 
of Leicester. Various causes combined to delay the 
departure of that nobleman for Ireland, notwithstand- 
ing his presence was imperatively demanded there. 
The Irish rebellion, as it was called, had broken 
out. It was general, terrific, and devastating. Almost 
the entire English population were massacred under 
circumstances of horrid barbarity and cruelty. The 
Earl of Leicester, then, according to Hume, in London, 
being prevented himself from repairing to the scene of 
action, dispatched his eldest son. Lord Lisle, in com- 
mand of his own regiment, to reduce the insurgents. 
In this regiment, Algernon Sidney, then in his nine- 
teenth year, had command of a troop. This was his 
entrance into military service. In various actions and 
skirmishes fought with the insurgents, he is reported 
to have behaved with extraordinary spirit and resolu- 
tion. The war, however, dragged slowly along. Sid- 



CHAPTER I. 25 

ney and his brother awaited in vain the appearance of 
their father in Ireland. The king had too much upon 
his hands at home to prosecute vigorously the war 
against his subjects across the channel. He had 
already unfolded the royal standard against his Parlia- 
ment, and the civil war had actually commenced on 
the 22d of August, 1642. Sidney's maternal uncle, 
the powerful Earl of Northumberland, adhered to the 
cause of the Parliament, his father to that of the 
king. After a year's delay, Leicester obtained his 
dispatch for Ireland. Preparing to embark, he re- 
ceived a peremptory order to remain. Another year's 
delay ensued ; Leicester was deprived of his govern- 
ment, upon which he retired to Penshurst, where he 
remained in seclusion durina: the rest of his life. 

Meanwhile, it seems, Lord Lisle and Sidney, from 
the activity and zeal displayed by them against the 
insurgents, had incurred the jealousy of the advisers 
of the king. Finding a longer service in Ireland irk- 
some, they obtained leave of the king, with the per- 
mission of their father, to return to England. 

On arriving at Chester, in August, 1643, some of 
their horses were taken from them by the royalists, 
which caused them immediately to put out again to 
sea. It appears they were suspected by both parties, 
for on their second landing, at Liverpool, they were 
detained, with their arms and property, by the Com- 
missioners of the Parliament. A letter written at 
this time by Sidney to one Bridgeman, a royalist, at 
Chester, demanding a restoration of their horses, re^ 
2 



26 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

veals his intention of proceeding at once to his father 
at Oxford, then in the hands of the king. This letter 
being discovered, fresh instructions were given by the 
Parliament to detain the brothers in custody, and they 
were subsequently sent up under arrest to London. 
The king spoke very harshly and severely of their con- 
duct, and even intimated that the whole affair was a 
contrivance on the part of the brothers. This accusa- 
tion, doubtless, had a tendency to fix their sentiments 
the more strongly in opposition to the royal cause. 

Thus far Sidney had taken no active part in the 
struggle between the king and the Parliament ; we 
are therefore left in some doubt as to his sentiments 
in respect to the merits of the controversy prior to 
his return to England. At the beginning, of his 
service in Ireland, the struggle had not yet com- 
menced. Even after the royal standard had been 
raised at Nottingham, the reduction of the Irish in- 
surgents was the common object of both parties, 
the Parliament as well as the king. It is not there- 
fore to be inferred from his service in Ireland, that he 
was a partisan of the king. On the contrary, various 
circumstances would lead to a directly opposite con- 
clusion. The character of Sidney was already formed 
and his opinions, always firm, even as has been 
charged, to obstinacy, were matured. It is not to be 
supposed that he wavered for a moment in his choice 
between the popular and the absolute party, far less 
that he adhered to the king, and subsequently changed 
sides to the Parliament. In corroboration of this opi- 



CHAPTER I. 27 

nion, that Sidney was from the first an advocate of the 
popular cause, his own solemn declaration may be 
cited as found in the able paper he drew up imme- 
diately before his execution.^ He commences by say- 
ing, that from his youth up he endeavored to uphold 
'^ the common 7'ights of mankind^ the laws of the 
land, and the true Protestant religion, against corrupt 
principles, arbitrary power ^ and popery." And then 
adds — " I am no ways ashamed to note that from the 
year 1642 till the coming in of the king, I did prose- 
cute the above principles." 

On arriving at London, Sidney and his brother gave 
in their adhesion to the Parliament, and actively en- 
listed in behalf of the popular cause — a cause to 
which the former at least never proved recreant to the 
day of his death. Sidney at once volunteered his ser- 
vices in the parliamentary army, and on the 10th of 
May, 1644, the Earl of Manchester appointed him to 
the command of a troop of horse in his own regiment. 
The war between the king and Parliament was now 
carried on with great animation on both sides. Thus 
far indeed, success seemed to favor the royalists. 
The great parliamentary leader, Pym, was dead. 
Hampden had fallen in battle. Waller had been 
routed, and his army dispersed. Bristol had opened 
her gates to the victorious arms of Prince Rupert, 
and'Gloucester was invested, but still held out under 
the heroic Massey, against the arms of the king. 
Such was the aspect of affairs during the campaign of 
* His " Apology in the Day of his Death," 



28 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

1643. Toward the close of that year, however, mat- 
ters were a little improved. The army under Essex 
marched successfully to the relief of Gloucester. One 
or two spirited and brilliant actions fought by Fairfax 
and Cromwell — names then fast rising to distinction — 
turned the scale of battle in that quarter against the 
royalists. The genius and address of Vane had suc- 
ceeded in carrying, with the Scottish commissioners, 
"the Solemn League and Covenant," in pursuance of 
which, early in the year 1644, an army of twenty 
thousand Scots had crossed the Tweed to the assist- 
ance of the Parliament. Still it must be admitted 
that this campaign opened under unfavorable auspices 
to the parliamentarians 

It is at this period that we find Sidney joining the 
army under the Earl of Manchester, who was then 
levying a force in the eastern counties to oppose the 
victorious royalists. He had collected a body of four- 
teen thousand men. Oliver Cromwell, already the 
greatest soldier of the age, served under him as Lieu- 
tenant-G-eneral, with his own troop of stern and de- 
termined men, the nucleus of that famous army which 
he afterwards commanded in chief, whose proud boast 
it was that no enemy had ever seen their backs. We 
do not design, however, to trace the conduct of the 
war, or even of this campaign, further than as con- 
nected with the career of Sidney. It is stated that 
he was in several actions, in all of which he conduct- 
ed himself with great gallantry. We do not, however, 
find any positive mention made of but one — the battle 



CHAPTER I. 29 

of York, or more properly speaking, the battle of Mar- 
ston Moor, fought near that city. This was one of 
the most important and best contested actions of the 
war. The number of combatants was greater than in 
any preceding action, and the result was decisive. 
Lord Fairfax and his more illustrious son. Sir Thomas 
Fairfax, had been ordered to join the Scottish army, 
under Leven, and after the juncture had laid siege to 
the city of York, a place of the greatest importance 
to the royalists. Here, by a brilliant movement, the 
army, under Manchester and Cromwell, had effected a 
junction with that of Fairfax. The combined armies 
numbered not far from twenty-five thousand men. 
The Earl of Newcastle, the most accomplished and 
able com.raander of the royalists, held the city against 
the besiegers. A series of irregular sorties and attacks 
had been made, but without decisive success, though 
it was evident that unless relief arrived, the city must 
capitulate. But relief was nearer than the garrison 
imagined. Suddenly Prince Rupert, at the head of a 
brilliant army of 20,000 men, appeared in sight of the 
walls of York. Fairfax attempted to intercept their 
march, but failed, and the glittering pikes of Rupert's 
cavaliers were soon after seen defilinsf throus^h the 
narrow gates of the besieged city. All hopes of the 
reduction of the city Vv^ere of course at once abandon- 
ed. The parliamentary army raised the siege and fell 
back. Meanwhile a difference of counsels arose in 
each army. The fiery and impatient Rupert was for 
giving immediate battle, but the cooler and more skil- 



30 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

ful Newcastle counselled delay. Rupert, headstrong 
and violent as ever, relying on the express commission 
of the king, and arrogantly assuming an air of supe- 
riority over his associates, determined to take the re- 
sponsibility of some daring achievement upon himself 
and gave orders for action. Newcastle listened in 
silence, and smiled in scorn at Rupert's vaunted 
boasts over the inferiority of his adversaries, and those 
adversaries the soldiers of Fairfax and Cromwell ! He 
was advised to take no part in an action v/here the com- 
mand was taken from him ; but he declined the ad- 
vice, and going into the action, as he said, a volunteer, 
he resolved to die as he had lived, a loyal subject. 
Such instances of chivalric spirit and high-toned 
honor, go far to redeem a cause that has very little 
else in it to enlist the popular sympathy. 

In the parliamentary army a like difference of 
opinion existed. The cautious Scottish commanders, 
who had not yet learned the temper and mettle of 
Fairfax's pikemen and Cromwell's Ironsides, were for 
retreating. Not so most of the English officers, who 
had declared for battle. It may well be imagined that 
none was more ardent and eager for action than 
young Sidney. These counsels, however, were tem- 
porarily overruled, and the parliamentary army aban- 
doning their position, slowly and sullenly retreated on 
the road to Tadoaster. Scarcely had they marched 
eight miles from the city of York, when several troops 
of Rupert's cavalry assailed the rear of the retreat- 
ing army. The parliamentarians found themselves 



CHAPTER I. 31 

obliged to fight ; the command to halt ran along the 
lines, and countermanding the order to march, the 
army fell back upon Marston Moor. That night, 
50,000 of the best soldiers in England, on both 
sides commanded with equal valor, under the lead 
of the most renowned generals of the nation, lay en- 
camped near the field of Marston Moor ready to com- 
mence a contest that should decide the fate of the 
monarchy. In the one camp, dimly through the star- 
light, were to be seen the banners of Newcastle, Rupert, 
and Goring, around which rung out the notes of 
gayety, and the festive and jo3^ous voices of the 
cavaliers already antieipating an easy victory. In the 
other, the blue banner of the covenanters drooped 
lazily from its staff, around which clujitered Leven's 
Scottish infantry ; the ever vigilant Fairfax, and the 
cool and steady Manchester, were making their pre- 
parations for the morrow ; while from Cromwell's en- 
campment arose the constant voice of pious exhorta- 
tion, of psalmody, and of prayer. On the morning of 
the 2d of July both armies prepared for action. A 
large ditch or drain ran in front of a portion of the 
army of the parliament. The centre was under the 
command of the Lords Fairfax and Leven. On the 
right, which was broken and somewhat protected by 
natural fences and lanes. Sir Thomas Fairfax was 
stationed. Cromwell and Manchester held the left, 
which was a barren waste terminating in a moor. 
On the other hand, Prince Ptupert himself took his 
position opposite Sir Thomas Fairfax, while Cromwell 



32 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

and Manchester on the left, were opposed by several 
infantry brigades supported by Goring's cavalry. 

At five o'clock in the afternoon the arrangements 
were completed ; the battle commenced at seven. 
Manchester's infantry moved upon the drain, where, 
while vainly endeavoring to form, they were mowed 
down in heaps by a murderous fire from the royalist 
musketeers and cannon. Groring immediately pre- 
pared to charge with his cavalry, and rapidly advanced 
for that purpose ; but, ere he could approach the dis- 
ordered ranks of Manchester, a terrible assailant en- 
countered him. The horse of Cromwell had wheeled 
round the right of the ditch, and fell full upon G-oring's 
flank. The charge, though momentary, was decisive. 
G-oring's cavahy were routed, and fled in every direc- 
tion. Cromwell turning upon the cannoniers, sabred 
them at their guns, and completing the total defeat of 
the right v/ing of the royalists, marched leisurely back 
to his position. It was at this point of the army that 
Sidney, now raised to the rank of colonel, commanded. 
Honorable mention is made of his conduct during the 
action, in the old parliamentary chronicles of the day. 
" Colonel Sidney, also, son to the Earl of Leicester, 
charged with much gallantry in the head of my Lord 
of Manchester's regiment of horse, and came off with 
many wounds, the true badges of his honor." It is 
stated in the annals of the day, that after Sidney had 
been dangerously wounded and was within the enemy's 
power, a soldier stepped out of Col. Cromwell's regi- 
ment, and rescuing him from his perilous position, 



CHAPTER I. 33 

carried him to a place of safety. Sidney desired to 
know the name of his preserver in order that he might 
reward him, but the soldier, one of those stern zealots 
whom Cromwell had gathered around him, told him 
that he had not saved him for the sake of obtaining 
any reward, and refusing to disclose his name, re- 
turned to his place in the ranks. 

]\Ieanwhile, on the right wing, Fairfax had been 
driven back under the impetuous charge of Prince 
Rupert, who, believing the day won, followed up his 
advantage too eagerly and too far. Turning to break 
the centre of the parliamentary force, and complete 
what he believed to be his victory, he suddenly en- 
countered Cromwell, who had simultaneously charged 
and defeated the centre of the royalists. The shock 
was tremendous, and for a while the battle raged with 
intense fury. Cromwell, though wounded in the 
neck, still kept the field, and urged on in person his 
stern and enthusiastic followers. The result of such 
a contest could not long be doubtful. The troopers of 
Cromwell soon swept in triumph over the bloody field. 
Rupert was driven back with great loss, and the vic- 
tory declared decisively for the parliamentarians. 
At ten o'clock in the evening the action was at an 
end. The victory was complete. Besides the slain, 
fifteen hundred royalist prisoners v/ere taken, together 
with all their artillery, baggage, and military stores. 
The appearance presented by the field is strikingly 
described by an accomplished author, v/hose narrative 
of a battle which has been difierently related, has 



34 ALGEKN'ON SIDNEY. 

been in the main followed here.=^ " It was 10 o'clock, 
and by the melancholy dusk which enveloped the moor, 
might be seen a fearful sight. Five thousand dead 
bodies of Englishmen lay heaped upon that fatal 
ground. The distinction which separated in life these 
sons of a common country seemed trifling now ! The 
plumed helmet embraced the strong steel cap, as they 
rolled on the heath together, and the loose love-locks 
of the careless cavaliers lay drenched in the dark blood 
of the enthusiastic republican." Soon after York 
opened her gates, and a large part of the north of 
England submitted to the authority of the Parliament. 
The same authority which makes such honorable 
mention of Col. Sidney's heroism and gallantry in this 
battle, informs us also that he was afterwards sent to 
London, " for the cure of his wounds." "We do not 
find it stated how long he remained there, or when he 
became able to resume his command. Probably he 
did not serve in the army again during that campaign. 
On the 10th of May, of the following year, as appears 
by his father's manuscripts, he was appointed governor 
of Chichester, and a day or two afterwards, he wrote 
to Sir Thomas Fairfax, stating that he was about to 
go down to enter upon his charge, after which he 
should wait upon him to deliver up his regiment. " I 
have not," he adds, " left the army without extreme 
unwillingness, and VA^ould not persuade myself to it by 
any other reason than that, by reason of my lameness 
I am not able to do the Parliament and you the ser- 

* Forster's Life of Cromwell. 



CHAPTER I. 35 

vice that would be expected from me." From this it 
would seem that the wounds he had received at Mars- 
ton Moor had hitherto disabled him from active service 
in the field. 

Notwithstanding the brilliant victory of Marston 
Moor, the campaign of 1644 was brought to an inde- 
cisive close. It had becom.e evident that the old chiefs 
of the army, Essex, Manchester and Sir AVilliam "Wal- 
ler, whatever their merits and claims, were not the 
men to bring the war to a successful termination. 
These leaders of the Presbyterian interest, were the 
advocates of moderate councils and moderate actions. 
Unwilling to push matters with the king to the last 
extremity, they were warring against his prerogative^ 
not against his person. Essex's commission ran in the 
name of the Kino; and Parliament^ and contained a 
clause relative to the safety of his majesty's person. 
The primary object of the Parliament undoubtedly 
was, to defend its privileges, not a total change of 
government. But a new and more energetic class of 
men had sprung up into notice, into whose hands the 
control of the revolution was about to pass. They 
were the leaders of the Independents, the Republicans 
of the revolution, such men as Cromwell, Ireton and 
Fairfax in the army, and Yane, St. John, Marten and 
their associates in the Parliament 

No class of men have been more misrepresented, and 
the public actions of none have been less thoroughly 
understood. It should be the province of biography as 
well as history to do justice to their motives and the 



36 ALGEKXOX SmXET. 



great deeds they achieved. These men were not 
troubled with any nice distinctions between the law- 
fulness of a war against the king's prerogative, and 
war against his person. Their actions were based 
upon the broad and fundamental doctrines of human 
rights, w^hich Sidney afterwards inculcated in his 
writings — the right of insurrection against tyranny 
and oppression — the right of a people to frame their 
own government, to alter or abolish it at pleasure, and 
to call their rulers to account — the right, in short, 
W'hich more than a century after, was asserted in the 
American Declaration of Independence — entire civil 
and religious liberty. To these doctrines Sidney ad- 
hered, and for them he afterwards perished on the 
scaffold. 

Cromwell, indeed, from the first, with his penetrat- 
ing and masculine intellect, had appreciated the true 
merits, and anticipated the ultimate issue of the con- 
test. In one of his earliest speeches to that remarka- 
ble body of stern and determined men whom he 
gathered around him — men whose martial ardor and 
courage were elevated into a kind of religious enthu- 
siasm — he stated the point at issue clearly and dis- 
tinctly. He declared to them that if he " met King 
Charles in the body of the enemy, he would as soon 
discharge his pistol upon him as upon any private 
man, and for any soldier present who was troubled 
with a conscience that would not let him do the like, 
he advised him to quit the service he v/as engaged in." 
Vane, too, in Parliament, thoroughly understood the 



CHAPTER I. 87 

nature of the controversy, and that it was the entire 
overthrow of the monarchy, not the mere limitation of 
the power of the king, that was to be regarded as the 
true end of the struggle. So, too, it appeared to Sid- 
ney ; and with the ardor and enthusiasm of his nature, 
he entered heartily into the boldest measures of the 
popular party, and never for a moment ceased to be 
their champion even when Cromwell himself proved 
recreant to his republican principles ; and when liberty 
and truth were finally proscribed from England, he 
proved his devotion to the faith of his life, by encoun- 
tering voluntarily exile and banishment. 

Ts'ot only had the Independents, or the Republicans, 
laid hold of the grand idea of civil liberty in govern- 
ment, which we understand by popular sovereignty, 
but they Vv'ere far in advance of that age in their doc- 
trines of freedom of worship and liberty of conscience. 
The Presbyterians, it is well known, insisted upon a 
conformity of religious worship, to be established by 
the state. Their own system was to take the place of 
that of Laud and the Church cf England. Sidney and 
Yane, on the other hand, advocated the great doctrines 
of religious as well as civil freedom — universal tolera- 
tion in matters of belief, and full liberty to every man 
to worship G-od as his own conscience might dictate. 

These were some of the ends now to be accom- 
plished by the revolution ; but to reach them it was 
necessary that the revolution should pass out of the 
hands of the Presbyterian majority. This was the 
work of Yane and Cromwell, a work in which Sid- 



38 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

ney heartily co-operated. The first great step to be 
taken was to re-organize the army — to dismiss from 
the service those in command who scrupled to " dis- 
charge a pistol upon the king," and to entrust the 
work of subduing the royalists to surer and less 
punctilious hands. To effect this, Cromwell, on the 
9th of December, 1644, introduced in Parliament his 
famous "self-denying ordinance," providing that no 
member of either house should hold under the autho- 
rity of Parliament any office, civil or military, during 
the war. Yane ably supported the bill, which passed 
the Commons, but failed in the House of Lords. The 
following month, however, a substitute was proposed 
and carried, whereby every member of Parliament was 
thenceforth discharged from whatever office civil or 
military he then held. This law of course brought in 
the resignations of Essex, Waller, Manchester, and 
all the old parliamentary officers, including Cromwell 
himself. But it was not the purpose of the Parlia- 
ment to deprive itself of the services of the future 
Lord-G-eneral. In the army of the " new model," 
which was immediately organized, Sir Thomas Fairfax 
was appointed general-in-chief, and Skippon major- 
general. The name of the lieutenant-general was left 
blank ; the blank was afterwards filled w4th the name 
of Oliver Cromwell. Sidney was one of the twenty- 
six colonels appointed in the new army. Among these 
subordinate officers also were Ireton, Desborough, and 
Harrison, destined afterwards to become famous in the 
history of the Commonwealth. 



CHAPTER I. 39 

It is unnecessary here to sketch the further history 
of the military operations between the king and the 
Parliament. As has been just mentioned. Colonel 
Sidney, on account of his lameness, reluctantly gave 
up the command of his regiment in Fairfax's army, 
and retired to the government of Chichester. We do 
not find that he was in the field during the campaign 
of 1645, nor present at the decisive battle of Naseby, 
w^hich prostrated the power of the king and established 
the supremacy of the people of England through their 
Parliament. 

In the month of December of this year, Colonel Sid- 
ney was elected a member of the House of Commons 
from the borough of Cardiff, as will presently be no- 
ticed in our sketch of his parliamentary career. Soon 
after, the House of Commons, on the recommendation 
of Sir Thomas Fairfax^^ and in consideration of his 
valuable services, voted him two thousand pounds in 
payment of his arrears. In January, 1646, his 
brother, the Lord Lisle, was appointed lord lieuten- 
ant of Ireland, and was ordered to that country to 
make head against the Marquis of Ormond, who had 
succeeded the Earl of Leicester in the government, by 
the king's authority. The same delays that had at- 
tended the departure of the Earl of Leicester attended 
that of Lord Lisle. His commission was not signed 
till April following, and it was not till the first of 
February, 1647, that he actually embarked. On the 
6th of July, in the preceding year, Sidney received a 
commission from his brother for the command of a 



40 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

regiment in thiy expedition. His attendance in par- 
liament was dispensed with by a resolution of the 
House of Commons ; and having completed his pre- 
parations, he accompanied Lord Lisle into Ireland. 
It appears, by the journal of his father, that the com- 
mittee of government at Derby House had invested 
Sidney with the responsible command of lieutenant- 
general of the horse in Ireland and governor of Dub- 
lin. He did not, however, long discharge the duties 
of this new place. The commission of Lord Lisle ran 
only for one year from its date, and the influence of 
his jealous rival, Lord Inchiquin, succeeded in prevent- 
ing its renewal by the Parliament. Thus after a ser- 
vice of less than two months, Lisle's commission 
having expired, he returned to England. The parti- 
zans of Inchiquin now resolved to supersede Sidney, 
and finally succeeded in getting one Colonel Jones 
appointed governor of Dublin in his place. It appears 
from the Earl's manuscripts, that on the 8th of April, 
1647, a motion was .made in Parliament that Colonel 
Jones should be made governor of Dublin in place of 
Algernon Sidney, and that the motion v^^as seconded 
by old Sir Henry Yane* on the ground, that Lord 
Lisle having been recalled, it was not proper that so 
important a place as Dublin should be left under the 
government of his brother. The resolution was op- 
posed by William Armyn and others, who urged that 
if they had ill-used one brother, it was no i^ason why 

* Father of the celebrated Sir Henry Vane the Younger, and formerly 
one of the secretaries of Charles I. 



CHAPTEE I. 41 

tlipy '' should do injustice to the other, who had 50 
ivell deserved of tJiem ;''' but, the House being thin, 
and many of Colonel Sidney's friends absent, the mo- 
tion was carried, and Jones appointed governor of 
Dublin. That it was no w^ant of good conduct which 
induced the House io supersede him, appears from its 
subsequent action. It was thereupon moved " that 
some recompense might be given to Algernon Sidney 
according to his merits^''^ which was agreed to unani- 
mously. 

On his return to England the first of May, he im- 
mediately repaired to London, where he received the 
thanks of Parliament for his good service in Ireland. 
Subsequently he was appointed governor of Dover, 
where he remained some time in the discharge of his 
duties, and on the 13th of October, 1648, was pro- 
moted by an ordinance of Parliament to the honorable 
title of lieutenant. His name was regarded as of 
good omen among the learned enthusiasts of the day, 
as, w^hen written in the Hebrew character, with a 
slight variation, it might be translated, "He is against 
strange men that destroy the cause. "^ 

Here properly closes the sketch of Colonel Sidney's 
military career. Henceforth we find him a prominent 
member of the Long Parliament up to the period of 
its final dissolution. His services as a soldier form 
the least distinguished portion of his career. Though 
valuable in their sphere, they were unobtrusive and 
modest. The young parliamentary colonel of twenty- 
* Meadley's Memoirs. 



42 ALGEKNON SIDNEY. 

four, unfurled his banner at the head of his regiment 
in Fairfax's army, inscribed with his simple and ex- 
pressive motto, so characteristic of him who had 
chosen it, Sanctiis amor patriod dat aniiJimn, with no 
higher aspiration than simply to do his duty, while 
his more ambitious but not more gifted associates, 
Ireton, Fleetwood, Lambert, and Desborough, were 
pushing themselves forward to distinction and fame. 
That Sidney while in the army did discharge his duty 
with fidelity, and that he performed many valuable 
services, is proved in the approbation his conduct re- 
ceived from his cotemporaries, in the thanks of the 
Parliament, in the honorable mention that is made of 
his gallantry on their records, and especially in the 
undying enmity that was afterwards manifested toward 
him by Charles II. and his court on the restoration of 
the monarchy. As a soldier he was distinguished by 
the same chivalrous ardor and undaunted bravery 
v/hich marked the character of his illustrious kinsman. 
Sir Philip Sidney, who fell on the field of Zutphen. 
Bishop Burnet, who knew him personally, but who 
has not done full justice to his character, speaks of 
him as " a man of the most extraordinary courage — 
a steady man even to obstinacy. ''^^ These attributes- 

* The whole passage reads as follows : — '' A man of the most extraor- 
dinary courage — a steady man even to obstinacy — sincere, but of a rough 
and boisterous temper that could not bear contradiction. He seemed to 
be a Christian, but in a peculiar way of his own ; he thought it was to 
be like a divine philosophy in the mind; but he was against all public 
•worship and everything that looked like a church. He was stiff to all 
republican principles, and such an enemy to everything that looked lil'e 
a monarchy, that he set himself in high opposition against Cromwell' 



CHAPTER I. 43 

of the soldier, united as they were in Sidney, with a 
singularly clear and rapid judgment, an inflexible 
constancy of purpose and firmness of temper, might, 
under circumstances more favorable to the develop- 
ment .of his military genius, have placed him high 
among the lists of the generals of the Commonwealth. 
But unforeseen events closed to him the path to 
exalted military command in the army that Cromwell 
commanded. He left it to take his place with Yane 
and St. John in the councils of the nation, among the 
ranks of the republicans in Parliament, where his 
presence was most needed and his place could be less 
easily supplied. 

when he was made Protector. He had studied the history of government 
in all its branches beyond any man I ever knew. He had a particular way 
of insinuating himself into people that would hearken to his notions and 
would not contradict him." 



CHAPTEK II. 

The Long Parliament — Its history — Difficulty attending the election 
of new members — Sidney elected from Cardiff — Does not take an 
active part in its deliberation — Events which led to the trial of the \ 
King — Conference with the King at the Isle of Wight — Treacherous 
conduct of Charles—'' Pride's purge" — Proceedings to bring the 
King to trial — Sidney nominated one of the commissioners — De- 

» clines to sit — His reasons — His opinions of the King's guilt — Re- 
flections on the trial and execution of the King — Conduct of the 
judges — Sidney retires to Penshurst — Returns to London after the 
King's death — Resumes his seat in Parliament and sustains 
the government — Establishment of the Commonwealth — Instal- y 
lation of the new Council of State — Sidney opposes the '" test" 
oath in Parliament — Difficulty with Cromwell — Question re- 
specting the dissolution of Parliament — Sidney a member of 
the committee to which it was referred — Labors of the com- 
mittee — Subject referred to committee of the whole — Difficulty 
between Sidney and his officers — Resigns the command of Dover — 
Visits Holland — Quarrels with the Earl of Oxford — Returns to Eng- 
land and resumes his parliamentary duty — Appointed on various 
committees — His colleagues — Vigor of the Commonwealth govern- 
ment — Sidney^s account of it — Ambition of Cromwell — His hostil- 
ity to Sidney — Contest between the military and civil power — The 
republicans oppose Cromwell — Plan of the republicans to dissolve 
parliament and call a new one — Plan of Cromwell — Vane's bill — 
Is defended by Sidney — Crisis in public affairs — Long Parliament 
dissolved by Cromwell — Sidney forced out — Retires to Penshurst — 
Refiises to take any further part in the government — Cromwell — 
Vane. 

The name of Algernon Sidney is closely connected 



CHAPTER n. , 45 

with the history of the Long Parliament. He became 
a member of it in the latter part of the year 1645, 
and though sometimes absent on military and other 
duties, he continued to retain his seat until its disso- 
lution by Cromwell, and re-assembled with it on the 
abdication of the Protector, Ptichard Cromwell. This 
famous body, Avhose achievements are so remarkable 
in English history, assembled at Westminster, in No- 
vember, 1640. The House of Commons numbered 
about five hundred members, chief among whom, on 
the popular side, were Pym, Hampden, and HoUis, 
St. John, Marten, and Vane. One of the first acts of 
the Commons was the impeachment of the Earl of 
Strafford, who was tried by the House of Lords, and 
notwithstanding the strenuous efforts of the king, was 
condemned and executed. On the rupture between 
the king and Parliament, many members of both 
Houses who favored the royal cause, left their places, 
and never afterwards met with the Parliament. 
Vrhen the royalist members assembled at Oxford in 
1644, there were found to be rising of one hundred 
and eighteen who adhered to the cause of the kin^r 
The Commons at Westminster at the same time order- 
ed a call of the House, and two hundred and eighty 
members answered to their names, while one hundred 
more were excused as being absent in the service of 
the Parliament. 

It appears thus that the great majority of the mem- 
bers adhered to the popular cause. Some had volun- 
tarily retired, and some had been expelled or declared 



46 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

unable any longer to sit, the House exercising its 
revolutionary right of declaring the eligibility of its 
own members. Still it was desirous for many reasons 
that the popular representation should be preserved 
entire, and that the places of such members as were 
dead or absent, and ceased to act, should be filled by 
their constituents. To this question the attention of 
the best and most eminent of the republican leaders 
had been for some time directed. It was found at first 
that a difficulty existed. The writ authorizing a new 
election, had always been under the great seal ; but 
the lord keeper, in 1642, had carried it off to the 
king, at York, and the House of Commons could not 
yet bring itself to overleap and disregard the cus- 
tomary forms of the monarchy. No action was, 
therefore, taken upon the subject, until the 30th of 
September, 1644, on which day it was voted that the 
House should, at a future time specified, take the 
subject into consideration. Still nothing decisive was 
done that year. Parliament yet hesitated, hoping, 
doubtless, a reconciliation with the king and a re- 
union of its members. Meanwhile, the great change 
already mentioned, took place in the army ; the repub- 
licans — the men who clearly foresaw the inevitable 
issue of the contest — the true statesmen of the age, 
began to make their influence felt upon the govern- 
ment. The battle of Naseby, so hopelessly fatal to the 
fortunes of the king, placed the day of reconcilia- 
tion, if possible, still further off, and strengthened the 
cause of the popular leaders. Vane, St. John, Mar- 



CHAPTEK II. 47 

ten, and their associates in parliament, who had been 
diligently urging forward this measure of filling up 
the representation, were now enabled to act. A peti- 
tion came up from the borough of Southwark, praying 
that the people might be authorized to elect two re- 
presentatives in place of one who had died, and one 
who had been disabled by a vote of the House. On 
the 21st of August, 1645, the initiative step was 
taken. A majority of the Parliament decided that 
new writs should be issued for Southwark and one or 
two other places. This example was speedily followed, 
and during the remainder of that year, no less than 
one hundred and forty-six vacant seats were filled by 
new elections among the people. Under these new 
elections Algernon Sidney, in December of that year, 
was returned a member of the House. The ranks of 
the republicans were also recruited with other distin- 
guished and enlightened statesmen ; the able and ac- 
complished Ireton was chosen, the resolute and straight- 
forward Fairfax, the honest and open Ludlow, Blake, 
the illastrious admiral, who afterwards so nobly sus- 
tained the flag of the commonwealth on the ocean, 
Hutchinson, Skippon, Massey, and other earnest and 
zealous republicans. These men infused new life and 
energy into the councils of the nation, and brought 
the struggle with the king to a speedy close. 

Colonel Sidney does not appear to have taken a 
very active part in the proceedings in Parliament for 
two or three years after his election. He preferred the 
more stirring scenes of the camp and the field. 



48 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

"We have seen that during the latter part of the 
year 1646, he was busily employed in preparation for 
the expedition to Ireland, and for that purpose his at- 
tendance in Parliament was dispensed with, by a reso- 
lution of the House of Commons. After his return to 
England, his military duties, as governor of Dover, 
occupied his principal attentioA up to the time of 
the trial and execution of the king. It became 
evident then that the Revolution had reached its 
crisis, and that the great popular battle was thenceforth 
to be fought upon the floor of the Parliament, and not 
upon the field. Sidney thereupon took his seat, and 
participated actively in the duties of the House, as 
one of the warmest supporters of the new common- 
wealth. 

It is unnecessary in this place to trace the events 
which led to the trial, the condemnation, and the exe- 
cution of the king. It is enough to say that Charles 
Stuart had betrayed the national cause, had endeavor- 
ed to subvert the liberties of his subjects, and had 
proved faithless to his engagem.ents with the Parlia- 
ment. Discarding the absurd maxim that " the king 
can do no wrong," we may safely, in our day, pass 
the judgment upon him that he was a greater criminal 
than Strafford had been, and no one, we think, can 
approve the condemnation of that ill-fated nobleman, 
without conceding the abstract justice of the sentence 
which adjudged Charles to the scaffold. The king 
for some time previous to his trial had been a captive 
in the hands of the Parliament. The Presbyterian 



CHAPTER n. 49 

majority, who then ruled the Parliament, were desi- 
rous of an accommodation with the king, and of re- 
placing him upon the throne, contrary to the wishes 
of the republicans, upon certain conditions and con- 
cessions made by him to the liberties of the people. 
Charles had his crown already within his grasp, but 
his arbitrary and tyrannical disposition, united with 
his duplicity and falseness, lost him not only his 
throne but his life. 

The memorable conference between the king and a 
committee of the Parliament at the Isle of Wight, com- 
menced on the 18th of September, 1648, and was 
spun out for more than tw^o months. Yane was a 
member of this committee, and speaks of Charles in 
these negotiations as " a man of great parts and abili- 
ties." But notwithstanding his abilities, he seems to 
have been attended here more than at any other 
period of his life, by his evil genius, which was 
already weaving the web of his destiny. Little could 
the misguided monarch, as he obstinately refused the 
concessions demanded of him, little could he then anti- 
cipate the scene that in less than three months would 
be revealed to his wondering eye — the scaffold shroud- 
ed in black at Whitehall, on which stood the masked 
headsman with his fatal axe ! The king made several 
concessions, with the secret reservation to retract 
them. He obstinately refused, however, notwithstand- 
ing the entreaties of Hollis and the Presbyterians, to 
yield full freedom of religious worship, or to treat on 
any other basis except that his friends should be fully 
3 



50 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

indemnified for their losses. These terms were any- 
thing but satisfactory to the republicans, yet the Pres- 
byterian majority, weary of the war, were disposed to 
accede to them. On the 1st December, the commis- 
sioners made their report to the House. A resolu- 
tion proposed by the Presbyterians, that the king's 
answers furnished a ground " for the settlement of the 
kingdom," supported by Prynne and Hollis, and 
opposed by Vane, was finally carried by a vote of one 
hundred and forty to one hundred and four. But the 
republican minority in the house were sustained by a 
formidable ally. The army, headed by Cromwell, 
was republican, and an ominous voice had already 
come up from it in the shape of an address to the Par- 
liament calling for the prosecution of the king. The 
day after the vote the Parliament was '' purged" of a 
portion of the Presbyterian majority by Col. Pride's 
regiment, and the power of the state passed wholly 
into the hands of the republicans 

It does not appear that at the time of '* Pride's purge," 
Sidney was in attendance in the House. Many of the 
best of the republicans, among whom was Yane, we 
know disapproved of this unjust and outrageous in- 
terference of the army with the rights of the people's 
representatives, and it is not to be doubted that Sid- 
ney was one of these. The act was a high-handed 
outrage, and the first great error committed by the 
republicans. It was quickly followed by another, 
which indeed was its inevitable result, the execution 
of the king. On the 2d of January, the Commons 



CHAPTER II. 61 

passed the significant resolution, preparatory to the 
overthrow of the monarchy: " That the Commons of 
Eno^land in Parliament assembled do declare, that the 
PEOPLE are, under God, the original of all just power." 
An ordinance for creating a " high Court of Justice," 
and appointing Commissioners for the trial of the king, 
had been introduced some days before, was read a 
third time on the 6th, and was passed. The num- 
ber of the Commissioners named in it was one hun- 
dred and thirty-five. They comprised all the illustri- 
ous republicans of the times, except Sir Henry Vane, 
who had retired from Parliament after " Pride's 
purge," and refused to share further in the proceed- 
ings. Colonel Sidney and his brother. Lord Lisle, 
were both named members of the Commission to try 
the king. Neither one of them, however, thought 
proper upon it. Sidney, it seems, attended with Fair- 
fax the first meeting of the Commissioners in the 
painted Chamber, and expressed himself dissatisfied 
with the whole proceeding. His own account of his 
share in the transaction we find stated in a letter 
written by himself to his father after the restoration : 
" I was at Penshurst when the act for the king's 
trial passed, and coming up to town I heard my name 
was put in. I presently went to the painted Cham- 
ber, where those who were nominated for judges were 
assembled. A debate was raised, and I did positively 
oppose Cromwell and Bradshaw and others who 
would have the trial to go on, and drew my reasons 
from these two points : — First, the king could be tried 



52 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

by no court. Secondly, that no man could be tried 
by that court. This being alleged in vain, and Crom- 
well using these formal words, ' I tell you we will cut 
off his head with the crov/n upon it,' I replied, ' you 
may take your own course, I cannot stop you, but I 
will keep myself clean from having any hand in this 
business,— and immediately went out of the room and 
never returned. This is all that passed publicly, or 
that can with truth be recorded or taken notice of. I 
had an intention which is not very fit for a letter." 

The " intention" spoken of by Sidney, Sir James 
Mackintosh conceives, and with good reason, to have 
been to procure the concurrence of both Houses of 
Parliament in the deposition of the king. Clarendon 
says that among the enemies of the king there were 
three opinions ; one was for deposing him, another for 
secret assassination, and a third for bringing him to 
public trial as a malefactor. The plan for " assassi- 
nation" may be set down as one of the many fictions 
of this royalist historian, but the other two were 
doubtless discussed among the republican leaders, 
who finally resolved to bring the king to trial as a 
criminal. Unquestionably Sidney in opposing a public 
trial shared the wiser and more statesmanlike views 
of Yane, and favored the deposition of the king. 

It will be observed, however, that while Sidney 
doubts the power of the court, or of any court, to 
bring Charles Stuart to trial, ho does not utter a 
word or intimate a doubt as to his guilt, or the justice 
of his sentence. Indeed he never hesitated to approve 



CHAPTER U. 53 

and justify the sentence. And even after the restora- 
tion, 'vhen the minds of the royalists were poisoned 
againsrt him, far from attempting to ingratiate himself 
by any base " compliance with the times," he frankly 
answe':ed an inquiry of his father on the subject, 
"I do avow that since I came into Denmark, I have 
many times so Justified that act^ as people did 
believ' I had a hand in it; and never did disavoio it 
unless it were to the king of Sweden and G-rand 
Maitrc of Denmark who asked me privately." 

We do not here design to discuss either the justice, 
or the wisdom and policy, of this daring act — the 
" boldest hitherto done in Christendom." It has 
been often condemned as a gratuitous and wanton 
cruelty, and the motives of the resolute and deter- 
mined men who wrought it have been traduced and 
assailed. Time, and the progress of liberal sen- 
timents, which have fully vindicated its justice, 
have Lclso vindicated the motives of the men who 
sat with John Bradshaw in that judgment seat. The 
policy and statesmanship of the act is more question- 
able. Doubtless it inculcated a terrible and lasting 
truth, one not easily forgotten by princes and rulers, 
that however monarchs might theorize on their '' di- 
vine rights," yet practically the power dwelt in the 
hands of the people, but its results proved it a lam- 
entable political error, and demonstrated the superior 
wisdom of the course preferred by Yane and Sidney. 
It opened the way to the aspiring ambition of the 
successful soldier who, so soon after, subverted the 



54 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

liberties of the commonwealth. It oblisfed the new 
government to lean for support upon the army rather 
than upon that moral power which, in a free state, is 
always wielded by the civil authorities, and centers in 
the bosom of the national representation. Finally, 
the scene itself, so sudden, so startling, so tragic, 
united with the pious constancy and fortitude of the 
sufferer, shocked the minds of a people constitution- 
ally loyal, like the people of England, and had the 
effect of producing more than any other single cause 
that powerful reaction in public sentiment against the 
new government, which, eleven years after, mani- 
fested itself in those shouts of acclamation which 
greeted the arrival of the second Charles, a wanderer, 
recalled from exile, to be raised without conditions to 
the throne of his ancestors. All then that remains is 
the stern, severe, naked justice of the act, the sub- 
limity of the spectacle displayed by those men of 
stout hearts and resolute minds, and the moral lesson 
inculcated, which has not been lost to the world. 

The king was executed on the 30th day of Janu- 
ary, 1649. It is to be remarked that of the one hun- 
dred and thirty-five judges appointed to try him, 
seventy -one was the greatest number ever present at 
the trial. Most of the rest, like Fairfax and Sidney, 
were designedly absent. Sixty-three were present 
when sentence was pronounced, and the names of 
fifty-nine are found attached to the death warrant. 
Among these, besides Oliver Cromwell whose signa- 
ture is next to that of the president, are to be found 



CHAPTEE II. 55 

the names of those well known and steady republicans, 
Bradshaw, Ireton, Fleetwood, Marten, Scot, and Lud- 
low ; and Whalley, Dixweli and G-ofFe, who subse- 
quently fled to the colonies of America, and died in 
exile in the then wilderness of New England. 

During these proceedings, Sidney, with his brother, 
Lord Lisle, left London and went to Penshurst. They 
remained there several days, and until after the con- 
demnation of the king. Having openly opposed the 
proceedings in the Painted Chamber, Sidney did not 
choose to lend even so slight a sanction to them as 
might be inferred from his presence in the Capital. 
But as has been before mentioned his objection proceed- 
ed rather to the form of the proceeding, and his reluc- 
tance to bring Charles to the scaffold, than from any 
doubt of his guilt, or from any want of sympathy with 
his republican associates. That ho heartily concurred 
in the abolition of royalty and the establishment of a 
free commonv/ealth, is evident from the fact that he 
immediately returned to London and took his seat in 
Parliament, where he at once zealously co-operated 
in all the measures proposed to sustain the new gov- 
ernment. 

Sidney now applied himself as closely to the busi- 
ness of the House as the duties of his military place, 
which he still retained, would permit. The new gov- 
ernment which came in after the king's death, was 
strictly a commonwealth. The House of Lords was, 
by a formal vote, abolished, and the next day, by 
another vote, the " kingship" Vv^as declared " unneces- 



56 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

sary, burdensome and dangerous to the liberty, safety, 
and public interest of the people." The sole legisla- 
tive, as well as executive power, was therefore vested 
in what remained of the House of Commons. The 
religious government of the nation was settled, estab- 
lishing the Presbyterian form, but depriving it of all 
temporal power or pretensions ; and religious tolera- 
tion became the order of the day in place of the rigid 
coercive power which had so long been wielded by 
the ancient hierarchy of England. In a very few 
days most of the vestiges of the monarchy were 
swept away. The great seal was broken to pieces 
and a new one devised. The name of the King's 
Bench was changed to that of Upper Bench. Even 
the king's statues at the Royal Exchange and other 
places were taken down, and Harry Marten's inscrip- 
tion placed on their sites. 

Exit tyrannus regum ultimus. 

It soon, however, became apparent to the states- 
men of the Commonwealth that an executive power 
of some description was necessary in the new govern- 
ment. For this purpose a committee of five was 
appointed to name a council, to consist of forty per- 
sons, to act as the executive power, whose authority 
was to continue for one year. The new council was 
installed on the 17th of February. The illustrious 
Bradshaw was chosen its president. Besides Crom- 
well, it comprised nearly all the eminent republican 
leaders of the time, Ireton, Ludlow, Marten, St. John, 



CHAPTER II. 57 

Hazelrig, Harringtcn, Scott, Lisle, and Hutchinson. 
Some of the nobility were also members ; the Earls 
of Denbigh, Mulgrave, Pembroke, and Salisbury, and 
the Lords Fairfax and Grrey. Vane also was 
chosen a member, at the earnest solicitation of Crom- 
well, it is said, whose ambitious aspirations had 
not ye'! taken form and shape ; but he did not present 
himsel'till nine days after. He found an obstacle to 
his being sworn into the council, by reason of a reso- 
lution jjroposed in the House, that no person should be 
a member without expressing his approbation of all 
that had been done on the king's trial. Yane refused 
to take the test. It was upon this occasion that Sid- 
ney, sensible of the importance and value of such 
services as Yane's, in the executive council of the 
new government, opposed this test in the House with 
great ^/armth and animation. Among other things 
he observed, that ^'such a test would prove a snare to 
many an honest man, but every knave would slip 
througti it." This cutting, and perhaps imprudent 
sarcasm was construed into a personal affront by 
Cromwell, Harrison and others, and a violent debate, 
which occasioned great excitement, ensued, it being 
contended that Sidney had called all those knaves 
who subscribed to the test. The experienced Harry 
Marten, one of Sidney's warmest friends, at length 
quieted the turmoil, and put an end to the debate, by 
one of his quick-witted and good-natured explanations. 
He declared that Sidney had only said that every 
knave might slip through, not that every one who did 



58 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

slip through was a knave. Sidney in the letter to 
his father, already mentioned, alluding to this circum- 
stance, declares his own conviction that it was much 
against his interest, as it made Cromwell, Harrison, 
Lord Grey of G-roby, and others his enemies, who 
from that time, continually opposed him. 

The opposition of Cromwell and his satellites, how- 
ever, as we shall presently see, was not only against 
Sidney, but against Yane, Bradshaw, Ludlow, and 
the noblest minds among the republicans who stood in 
the path of his ambition. 

The first great question which the House and the 
executive council encountered, was that of the succes- 
sion, and of regulating the election of future parlia- 
ments. The " Rump Parliament," as it is called, has 
been accused of the desire of perpetuating itself, after 
all its power and influence had departed. The charge, 
so far as the leading members of the republican party 
are concerned, is unfounded. Cromwell, in forcibly 
dissolving the Long Parliament, acted the part of a 
military tyrant and usurper, as he was, by overturn- 
ing the civil authorities at the very moment the Par- 
liament was about peacefully to dissolve itself, and to 
call another elected, by the suffrages of the people. 

The dissolution of the Parliament, the calling of 
another, regulating the succession of parliaments, and 
fixing the ratio of representation, had been primary 
and important objects with the statesmen of the new 
Commonwealth. Only three months after the instal- 
lation of the executive council, on motion of Yane, 



CHAPTER ir. 59 

the question for the dissolution of the present Parlia- 
liament came up in connection with the subject of 
calling future parliaments and regulating the elec- 
tions. On the loth of May, the whole matter was 
referred to a committee of nine persons, of which 
Yane was the chairman. Of this committee Col. 
Sidney was a member. It was directed to sit every 
Monday and Friday, until its laborious duties were 
completed. The first report of this important com- 
mittee was not made till January of the next year, 
and then only partially acted on. The labors of the 
committee were again resumed, and through this and 
the following year it would seem to have met more 
than fifty times ; still no decisive result was attained. 
The subject was finally referred to the committee of 
the whole House, where, by the labors of Vane, Sid- 
ney, and other true and tried patriots, a bill for the 
peaceful dissolution of the Long Parliament, the call- 
ing of another, and fixing the representation, was 
matured and about to pass at the very moment when 
Cromwell introduced his soldiers on the floor of the 
House, and turned out its members at the point of 
the bayonet. The provisions of this bill v/ill be pre- 
sently noticed. 

Col. Sidney though an influential member of this 
important committee, was absent from many of its 
deliberations. On the 18th of July, he was continued 
by resolution of the House in the government of 
Dover Castle, and his time seems to have been divided 
between his military and civil duties. The following 



60 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

winter he became involved in an unfortunate dispute 
with his officers in the garrison at Dover. A court mar- 
tial was at once convened, but thinking himself unfairly 
treated, he appealed to Parliament for redress, who ap- 
pointed a committee to investigate the matter, and in 
the meantime ordered the proceedings of the court 
martial to be stayed. Notwithstanding this, the court 
martial continued to sit, till the Parliament noticing 
their refractory conduct, summoned three of its officers 
to the bar of the House. The matter was finally 
referred to the Council of State, who on the 28th 
March, 1652, gave Sidney the redress he asked, and 
restored him his horses and other property of which 
he had been deprived. 

Having resigned his military command, and nothing 
of great importance being before the Parliament, Col. 
Sidney went over on a visit to the Hague. Here, on 
the 19th of April, his impetuous temper drew him 
into a quarrel with the Earl of Oxford at a play. 
Sidney conceiving himself insulted by the Earl, sent 
him a challenge, and the parties proceeded at once to 
Flanders, with their seconds, to settle their dispute by 
single combat. The duel was prevented by the inter- 
ference of some friends, who pron^ptly followed and 
intercepted the parties on their way to Flanders. 

In the autumn of 1651 Col. Sidney returned to 
England, and being now freed from his military en- 
gagements, he devoted himself with great assiduity to 
his duties in the house. Daring the remainder of this, 
and the following year, he performed various impor- 



CHAPTER II. 61 

tant services, particularly in his duties upon the com- 
mittees. He was upon two committees for promoting 
the union with Scotland, to accomplish which Yane 
was subsequently sent as a commissioner into that 
country, after the battle of Dunbar. He w^as also a 
member of the committee charged with effecting 
various important alterations in the practice in courts 
of law. Upon this committee there were several of 
his associates who were not members of Parliament. 
The celebrated Sir Matthew Hale, the most profound 
and accomplished jurist of the age, was a member of 
it. He seems also to have had some singular asso- 
ciates who appear to have been very little qualified 
for the work. Among these may be mentioned Major- 
Greneral Desborough and the famous preacher Hugh 
Peters, formerly minister at Salem in Massachusetts, 
and afterwards the chaplain of Cromwell, who, accord- 
ing to Whitlocke, " understood little of law, was very 
opinionative, and would frequently mention some 
proceedings of law in Holland wherein he was altoge- 
ther mistaken." The committee met several times in 
the House of Lords ; but, considering the nature of 
the times, and the discordant materials of which it 
was composed, it is not wonderful that little was 
effected by its labors. Among other resolutions passed 
in the committee, the following may be taken as 
a specimen : '* If the defendant in a personal action 
before pleading, tender satisfaction to the plaintiff, 
with cost of suit, and it appear afterwards at the trial 



62 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

to the jury sufficient, and not accepted of, the plain- 
tiff to lose his own and pay the other's costs of suit."* 

Sidney was chairman of the committee on a bill 
for satisfying those adventurers w^ho had lent money 
to assist the government in suppressing the Irish in- 
surgents on an assignment of the confiscated lands. 
This bill included the subject of the arrears due to 
the army employed in that service, and the encourage- 
ment of Protestant settlers in Ireland ; and after a 
laborious investigation of several months, Sidney re- 
ported the proceedings complete to the House. 
Finally, on the 25th of November, 1652, he was 
elected a member of the Council of State, and re- 
mained in discharge of the executive duties of the 
government until its overthrow by Cromwell the fol- 
lowing April. 

No one can deny in looking at the administration 
of the government of the Commonwealth during the 
period between the death of the king and the dissolu- 
tion of the Long Parliament, that it was conducted 
with unparalleled vigor and ability. It is a common 
mistake to attribute the power which, at this period, 
England wielded at home and abroad, and the proud 
eminence she attained among civilized nations, solely 
to the skill and genius of Oliver Cromwell. Surely 
the statesmen who guided the vessel of the Common- 
wealth through the rocks on either side into a place of 
comparative safety, before the helm fell exclusively 
mto the powerful hands of the great soldier, may 

* Roscoe's Lives of Eminent British Lawyers, Sir Matthew Hale, 



CHAPTER n. 63 

justly claim at least, to divide the glory of the achieve- 
ment. "We see not why the names of such men as 
Vane, and Bradshaw, and Algernon Sidney, who sat in 
the legislature and in the executive councils of the state, 
and who so successfully conducted the foreign as well 
as the domestic administration, while Cromwell was 
fighting his battles of Drogheda, Dunbar, and "Wor- 
cester, should be comparatively forgotten, and their 
glory eclipsed by the halo which surrounds the name 
of the victorious general of the Commonwealth. 
Nothing so contributed to increase the power and 
exalt the fame of England abroad, during this period, 
as her splendid maritime successes. With these, cer- 
tainly, Cromwell had little to do. The first war with 
the Republic of Holland was commenced and virtually 
brought to a close during the Long Parliament. Sir 
Henry Yane was then at the head of the naval de- 
partment ; and, notwithstanding the comparatively 
small naval force at the command of the English gov- 
ernment, the unparalleled skill and exertions of that 
great statesman, aided by the united efforts of the Par- 
liament, soon raised the navy of the Commonwealth 
to a position to contest successfully with her rival the 
dominion of the seas. The Parliament selected one of 
its members, hitherto known only as a plain but in- 
flexible republican, destined to become famous as a 
hero, Blake, to the command of the fleet, and to con- 
test with such captains as Yan Tromp and De Ruyter, 
the supremacy of the ocean. The result proved the 
wisdom of the choice. "We quote the words of Sid- 



64 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

ney himself, as found in one of his discourses, in vindi- 
cation of the fame of that government of which he was 
a member. A nobler and a juster eulogy was never 
pronounced on the deeds of the republican statesmen 
of the Long Parliament. 

" "When Yan Tromp set upon Blake in Folkestone 
Bay, the Parliament had not above thirteen ships 
against three score , and not a man who had ever seen 
any other fight at sea than between a merchant ship 
and a pirate, to oppose the best captain in the world, 
attended with many others, in valor and experience 
not much inferior to him. Many other difficulties 
were observed in the unsettled state — few ships, want 
of money, several factions, and some, who, to advance 
particular interests, betrayed the public. But such 
was the power of wisdom and integrity in those that 
sat at the helm, and their diligence in chosing men 
only for their merit, was blessed with such suc- 
cess, that in two years our fleets grew to be as famous 
as OUT land armies ; the reputation and power of our 
nation rose to a greater height than v^^hen we possessed 
the better half of France, and the kings of France 
and Scotland were our pensioners. All the states, 
kings, and potentates of Europe most respectfully, 
not to say submissively, sought our friendship ; and 
Rome was more afraid of Blake and his fleet than 
they had been of the great king of Sweden when he 
was ready to invade Italy with a hundred thousand 
men " 

Warburton calls the members of the Lons: Parlia- 



CHAPTER n. 65 

ment " a set of the greatest geniuses for government 
the world has ever seen ennbarked together in one 
common cause." Even Hume himself, notwithstand- 
ing his strong political bias, and the injustice he has 
elsewhere done the republicans of the Commonwealth, 
bears involuntary testimony to their great ability in the 
administration of the government. Speaking of the 
period of the battle of AYorcester, when the Republic 
had an army of eighty thousand soldiers on foot, he 
says : " The vigor of the Comraonweath and the great 
capacity of those memhers who had assumed the gov- 
ernment^ never, at any time, appeared so conspicuous." 
But the days of the Long Parliament were draw- 
ing to a close. The men who bore rule in its coun- 
cils, were the men who stood in the path of Crom- 
well's ambition. One of these was Algernon Sidney, 
who continued firmly attached to the cause of the 
Parliament and the Commonwealth, side by side 
with Yane and his noble associates, to the last. It 
has been mentioned, that Sidney early encountered 
the ill-will of the lord general, nor does it appear 
that he ever was reinstated in his good opinion, even 
while Cromwell was yet acting in perfect unison with 
the republican leaders in Parliament. Sidney had been 
strongly recommended by Ludlow to Cromwell for the 
appointment of general of the horse in Ireland, and as 
the second in command to the gallant G-eneral Ireton 
in the government of that kingdom. ; but Cromwell 
could not overcome his dislike to Sidney, and under 
the pretence of his being related to some of the royal 



66 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

party, appointed Ludlow himself to that station. At 
the time of Sidney's accession to the Council of State, 
Cromwell was weaving that web of intrigue, and 
meditating those schemes of fatal ambition, which 
ended in the overthrow of the Commonwealth. Other 
eyes besides those of Sidney were now bent upon the 
aspiring soldier, and his course was watched with in- 
tense anxiety by all the true and tried republicans in 
Parliament. Even his old friend, Harry Marten, who 
had stood by him in the matter of the '' purge" of Parlia- 
ment, nov/ looked upon him with distrust, and pre- 
pared to separate from, him for ever. 

The decisive battle of Worcester, the " crowning 
mercy," as Cromwell styled it, was fought the pre-, 
ceding fall. The royalists were utterly subdued ; the 
young king was a fugitive and a wanderer, and no 
power in England was left to challenge the supremacy 
of the government. Cromwell was again in London, 
and in attendance in the Parliament. From that 
point is to be traced the first manifest development of 
his unworthy and criminal ambition. It is not our in- 
tention here to follow the progress of the quarrel which 
fell out between the Parliament and the army, or 
rather its general, Cromwell. It originated in the 
sound policy of the Parliament of reducing the army 
to the peace establishment, and thus annulling the 
military power — a measure extremely distasteful to 
Cromwell and his officers, by whom it was strenuously 
resisted. It is unnecessary to say that Sidney co- 
operated heartily with Vane in advocating the measure, 



CHAPTER II. 67 

and thus made wider the breach between himself and 
the lord general. 

The crisis between the civil and military powers, 
however, turned upon another but a kindred point of 
controversy. Both professed to be desirous of a speedy 
dissolution of the old Parliament, but both were not 
so eagerly anxious for the convocation of a new one. 
The conferences toward the close of the year 1652, 
between the lord general and his principal officers, and 
some of the more yielding republicans, such as his 
kinsman St. John, and Sir Arthur Hazelrig, preclude 
every other conclusion save that Cromwell was aim- 
ing at, if not conspiring to obtain, the chief authority 
insome form or shape. The plan he finally settled 
upon was the dissolution of the old parliament, leav- 
ing the powers of government in the hands of a few 
*' select persons," or in other words, a military com- 
mission, which he knew he could mould to his own 
purposes. Not so Sidney and the republicans. They 
desired the dissolution of Parliament by an act of their 
own ; and by the same act the convoking of another 
as the sovereign power in the state, based upon the 
broad principle of popular suffrage and equal and 
JUST popular representation. This bill had been 
reported by Yane to the House from the committee of 
which Sidney v^as a member; and after being kept in 
committee of the whole, and discussed at intervals for 
a period of eleven months, was sent back to the same 
committee to be perfected. Before the labors of the 
committee were completed, Yane had procured a vote 



68 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

of the House, that the period of the dissolution 
should be fixed for the 3(1 of November, 1653. In 
April of that year, the bill, as it had been agreed upon 
in the committee, was brought up before the House 
for action. Its discussion brought with it the final 
crisis — the open rupture with Cromwell — the dissolu- 
tion of the Parliament — the overthrow of the Common- 
wealth. This bill, so distasteful to Cromwell, and 
which, at the moment of the dissolution of the House, 
he snatched from the hands of the clerk and destroyed, 
provided for the dissolution of the present Parliament, 
and the calling of another, to be elected by the suf- 
frages of the qualified voters of the whole . people. 
The number of representatives fixed was four hundred. 
The inequalities of representation which existed in 
former parliaments were carefully avoided. Ludlow, in 
his " Memoirs," says, that some boroughs, with scarcely 
a house in them, chose two members, and that the 
county of Cornwall elected forty- four, while Essex, 
bearing as great a share in the payment of taxes, sent 
no more than six or eight. The same excellent autho- 
rity adds, that the present bill provided that the mem- 
bers of Parliament should be "chosen by the several 
counties in as near a proportion as was possible to the 
sums charged upon them for the services of the state, 
and all men admitted to be electors who were worth 
£200 in lands, leases, or goods." The effect of this 
truly radical reform bill, may be estimated by a com- 
parison of the counties just named, Cornwall and 
Essex. It gave the former ten, the latter fourteen 



CHAPTER n. by 

members. It may also be mentioned that the £200 
qualification clause was not the original proposition 
of Yane and his friends. The sole qualification they 
proposed was a freehold in land, or other profits of the 
yearly value of 40s., or a leasehold estate for life of 
the value of £5, or for twenty-one years of the value 
of £20. These provisions were, however, opposed by 
Cromwell, who succeeded in defeating the friends of 
the bill on several divisions, and procured the higher 
qualification to be inserted.* 

The contest was thus narrowed down between 
Cromwell and his officers on the one hand, and be- 
tween Vane, Sidney, and the republicans in Parlia- 
ment on the other, to this point, namely, whether the 
House should be dissolved, leaving the powers of gov- 
ernment in the hands of Cromwell and his military 
cabal ; or whether it should be dissolved, and another 
chosen by the sufii'ages of the people, installed in its 
stead. It is not to be wondered at, that the latter 
course was distasteful to the future dictator. A free 
Parliament stood between him and the supreme autho- 
rity ; and he resolved, at all hazards, and at every 
sacrifice of principle to effect his object. 

The scene of the final dissolution of the Long Par- 
liament was enacted on the 20th of April, 1653. 
About one hundred members had assembled. Alger- 
non Sidney sat at the right hand of the Speaker, Len- 
thall. With Vane, Marten, Scot and the principal 
members, he had been there from an early hour. The 

* Forster's British Statesmen, Life of Vane. 



70 AXGEENON" SIDXET. 

act for tlio ^' new representative" had arrived at its 
last stage, and after a powerful speech from Yane, was 
about to pass into a lav/. At this stage of the pro- 
ceedings Major G-eneral Harrison, then one of Crom- 
well's allies, arose to make a speech, evidently for the 
purpose of gaining time. Meanwhile, Colonel In- 
goldsby vv^as despatched in haste to the lord general, 
who was sitting in council with his military cabal, at 
"Whitehall. Eushing v/ithout ceremony into the pre- 
sence of Cromwell, he exclaimed, " If you mean to 
do any thing decisive you have no time to lose I" The 
G-eneral iminediately rose, ordered a party of soldiers 
to the House of Commons, and himself, with Lam- 
bert and a few others, repaired thither. The ir- 
resolution of Cromwell is strongly marked in his 
conduct that day in the House. Like Caesar, he hes- 
itated before he crossed the Rubicon ; but Rome and 
empire lay beyond. As if in mockery of the outrage 
he was about to commit, he had laid aside every ves- 
tige of the soldier, and appeared " clad in plain black 
clothes with gray worsted stockings." On entering 
the hall, he '' sat down as he used to do, in an ordi- 
nary place." He listened attentively to Yane, who 
was urging with warmth and eloquence the necessity 
of dispensing with certain immaterial forms and pro- 
ceeding at once to the final vote upon the bill. '' Now 
is the time," whispered Cromwell to the misguided 
Harrison. " I must do it /" 

" The work, sir, is very great and dangerous," was 
the cautious reply of Harrison. 



CHAPTER n. 71 

" You say well," answered Cromwell, and sat still 
for another quarter of an hour. 

It appears that the Speaker was actually about to 
put the question,^ when Cromwell suddenly started 
to his feet and commenced a strange and incoherent 
harangue against the Parliament and the proceedings 
of the members. He soon succeeded in lashing him- 
self into a passion ; but he had to deal with resolute 
and undaunted men, who were not to be awed by the 
words or the frown of the dictator. Yane, Marten 
and Wentworth successively rose to answer, but their 
voices were lost in the confusion. At length, Sir Pe- 
ter Wentworth made himself heard, and hurled the 
scathing denunciation at Cromwell — " that he had 
never heard such unbecoming language in Parliament 
— lanouao^e the more shameful as it came from their 
servant ; that servant whom they had so highly trusted 
and obliged, and whom, by their unprecedented bounty 
they had made what he was." 

At these words Cromv/ell thrust on his hat and 
sprang to the centre of the floor. Eye-witnesses 
have describedf the shameful scene which followed 
— a scene humiliating to the greatness of the vic- 
torious general of the Commonwealth, in which the 

=* Sir Arthur Hazelrig, a member present, says : " We were laboring 
here in the House on an act to put an end to that Parliament and to call 
another. I desired the passing of it with all my soul. The question 
was putting for it, when our General stood up and stopped the question, 
and called in his Lieutenant with two files of musketeers, with their hats 
on their heads, and their guns loaded with bullets." 

t Sidney. Ludlow. Hazelrig. 



72 ALGEKNON SIDNEY. 

coolness and calm self-reliance of the conqueror of 
Worcester and Naseby fight, seemed to have degene- 
rated to the rant and bluster of a common brawler. 
He paced the floor — he stamped and raved like a 
madman. He applied the vilest epithets and used 
the most ignoble language. "When Yane courage- 
ously rose and succeeded in making himself heard 
for the last time, Cromwell sternly interrupted him : — 
" You might have prevented all this, but you are a 
juggler, and have not so much as common honesty." 
Then cutting short his discourse, he exclaimed. 
*' You are no Parliament. I say you are no Parlia- 
ment ! ril put an end to your sitting. Begone ! 
Grive way to honester men." He stamped with his 
foot as he spoke ; the door was flung open ; his mus- 
keteers filed into the hall, and drove out the members 
at the point of the bayonet. As they passed along, 
Cromwell, now excited beyond control, singled out 
individually those whom he had most reason to hate 
and loaded them with opprobrium and insult. One 
he called, by name, an adulterer, another he accused 
of embezzlement, a third of fraud and injustice. As 
Yane passed by among the last, protesting with earn- 
est voice, " This is not honest ; yea, it is against 
morality and common honesty," Cromwell spoke in 
a harsh and troubled tone, unable to hurl any per- 
sonal accusation against his most formidable rival — 
" Sir Harry Yane I Sir Harry Yane ! The Lord de- 
liver me from Sir Harry Yane !" 

During the whole of this remarkable scene, Sidney 



CHAPTER II. 73 

remained firm at his post ; but finally, with his asso- 
ciates, was obliged to succumb to force and violence. 
From the journal of his father. Lord Leicester, pen- 
ned, undoubtedly, on the relation of Sidney, we quote 
the closing scenes of this singular ^jjafffTa: *' Then 
the general, -pointing to the speaker in his chair, said 
to Harrison, ' fetch him down.' Harrison w^ent to the 
speaker and spoke to him to come down, but the 
speaker sat still and said nothing. ' Take him doivn^^ 
said the general ; then Harrison went and pulled the 
speaker by the gown, and he came down.* It hap- 
pened that day that Algernon Sidney sat next to the 
speaker on the right hand. The general said to Har- 
rison, ' Put him out.' Harrison spake to Sidney, but he 
said he would not go out, and sat still. The general 
said again, ' Put him out.' Then Harrison and Wors- 
ley (who commanded the general's own regiment of 
foot) put their hands upon Sidney's shoulders, as if 
they would force him to go out. Then he arose and 
went towards the door. Then the general went 

=^ LenthaPs firm conduct on this occasion is corroborated by other tes- 
timony. He told Harrison, says Ludlow, " that he would not come down 
unless he was forced. ' Sir,' said Harrison, ' I will lend you my hand," 
and thereupon putting his hand within his, the speaker came down." 
Sir Arthur Hazelrig gives the following description : " The speaker, a 
stout man, was not willing to go. He was so noble that he frowned^ 
and said he would not go out of the chair till he was plucked outi 
which was quickly done, without much compliment, by two soldiers." 
The resolution displayed by Lenthal on this occasion, is somewhat re- 
markable, inasmuch as he was a man of little decision of character. 
Sidney's courageous conduct was characteristic, and such as he neve^- . 
failed to display on all occasions when he had a right to sustain, or a 
duty to discharge. 



74 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

towards the table where the mace lay, which used to 
be carried before the Speaker, and said — ' Take away 
these baubles.' So the soldiers took away the mace." 
A.nd thus closed that famous Parliament which had 
wrought such great achievements for the liberties of 
the people of England. The lord general seized the 
act of dissolution from the hands of the secretary, 
locked the door, and carried back the keys with him 
to Whitehall, himself now the sole depository of the 
power of the Commonwealth. 

Sidney immediately retired in disgust to his father's 
residence at Penshurst. Thenceforth he refused to take 
any part in Cromwell's usurped government, or in 
the slightest degree to countenance it. It was not 
until the reassembling of the Long Parliament, after 
the death of the Protector Richard, that he again ap- 
peared upon the scene. 

The personal history of Algernon Sidney, as has 
been seen, like that of almost every public man of that 
period, is connected with the history of the great man 
of the age, Oliver Cromwell. In tracing it we have 
had frequent occasion to speak of Cromwell, though 
not always in the flattering and eulogistic terms which 
have of late been so much in vogue among a class of 
his admirers. A brief digression from our main sub- 
ject may not be out of place here, in order to correct 
any erroneous impression as to the character of this 
really great and extraordinary man, which may have 
been left by the relation of his connection with the dis- 
solution of the Long Parliament. 



CHAPTER n. 75 

Cromwell is certainly one of the most striking and 
remarkable personages in history. His biography has 
been so often written, and is so familiar to the general 
reader, as to render it superfluous, even were it pro- 
per, to glance at it here. He had been wild and dissi- 
pated in his youth, but on a sudden abandoned his 
dissolute course of life, and adopted the tenets and 
rigid morality of the strictest sect of the Puritans. 
His religious professions which have called forth so 
many contradictory opinions were doubtless sincere ; 
yet though his enthusiasm was deep and stern, his 
mind was too vigorous and well balanced to suffer 
it to lead him into those wild rhapsodies which 
heated the imaginations of so many of the leading 
Puritans. 

We think it may safely be asserted that Cromwell 
was neither a hypocrite nor a fanatic. Yet, while 
always keenly sensitive to religious emotions, he did 
not scruple, when occasion required, to make use of 
his reputation for sanctity and godliness, for secular 
purposes. In the midst of his most pious professions, 
and perhaps of his most devout feelings, he was always 
the clear-headed, far-seeing, practical man of the 
world, not disposed to stick at a point of metaphysics 
or abstract theology in gaining an end. Perhaps it is 
true that in his later career, ambition and the lust of 
power may have shared far more of his thoughts than 
did his devotional meditations. This may serve to ex- 
plain the meaning of the question put by him to one of 
his chaplains on his death-bed, when his mind return- 



76 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

ed to those deep and earnest thoughts on which it had 
so intently dwelt in former years — whether it were 
^^ possible for one to fall from grace and be finally 
lost ?" And upon being answered in the negative, he 
replied — " Then I am safe^ for I avii sure I was in 
grace onceP 

The sincerity of Cromwell's political actions and 
professions in the earlier portion of* his public career, 
we have as little reason to doubt. While he yet acted 
with Vane, Sidney, Marten, and Bradshaw, he was 
sincerely and truly a republican. Perhaps his mind 
was among the very first to penetrate clearly into the 
future, and to appreciate the merits of the question at 
issue. But the political honesty of Cromwell was not 
proof against temptation. That he betrayed the popu- 
lar cause, and proved recreant to his republican prin- 
ciples, is true. It is not impossible, as some of his 
admirers have claimed, that he may have been per- 
fectly sincere in his views of public policy, which led 
to his concentrating in his own hands the powers of 
the state, and that he was, if such a thing be possi- 
ble, an honest usurper. The obvious inference, how- 
ever, from the facts of his history, seems directly the 
reverse of this. Like every crafty and ambitious 
statesman, Cromwell was not a stranger to diplomacy 
and intrigue. Sometimes he found it necessary to 
avail himself of the arts of dissimulation, in which he 
was a profound adept. He habitually concealed his 
well-laid plans, but generally endeavored to give a 
plausible explanation of his actions. Nor were his 



CHAPTER n. 77 

explanations at all times true ones. All this, however, 
may be reconciled without the assumption that he 
acted throughout upon a plan of systematic hypocrisy, 
for there will be found running through these expla- 
nations, tedious and verbose as they are, a subtle and 
plausible logic that may well have imposed upon his 
own mind as it did on others, and have silenced, if it 
did not entirely ^tisfy, his own scruples. Cromwell, 
doubtless, carried his arts of dissimulation too far. 
In his eagerness to justify his conduct and prove the 
purity of his motives, he occasionally descended to 
what the world might, with some propriety, call false- 
hood.* Yet to say that his whole public career was 
but the manifestation of a preconcerted system of hol- 
low-hearted duplicity and falsehood, is ascribing a lit- 
tleness to the character of this really great man which 
we think the facts of history do not warrant. 

Cromwell was more than forty years of age when he 
first entered into public life. The great capacity of the 
man was known to few — indeed to none save, perhaps, 
his kinsman John Hampden, who knew him well, 

* Among the other moral inconsistencies in this singular character, 
may be mentioned the fact stated by Noble, that notwithstanding the 
warmth of his religious zeal, and the severe outward propriety of his con- 
duct, the Protector is known to have indulged in several not very repu- 
table intrigues with ladies of his court. The Lady Dysert, afterwards 
Duchess of Lauderdale, and the wife of General Lambert, are mentioned 
as his favorites. These ladies were the very reverse of each other in 
manners and accomplishments. Lady Dysert is described as "beautiful, 
witty, learned, and full of intrigue." Mrs. Lambert, on the contrary, 
though a woman of pleasing attractions, was a bit of a Puritan, and 
"employed herself only in praying and singing of hymns." 



78 ALGEENON SYDNEY. 

Almost on his first appearance in parliament, Lord 
Digby inquired of Hampden who that sloven was 
whom he had just heard speak in the House. 
Hampden answered — "If we ever come to a breach 
with the king, which (3rod forbid ! In such a case, I 
say that sloven will be the greatest man in England!" 
And well was the opinion of Hampden justified, and 
admirably was his prediction fulfilled. The sagacity 
of Cromwell, his prodigious energy of character, his 
rugged, robust manhood, were all brought into advan- 
tageous employ daring the civil war. He became the 
first soldier of the age. Subsequent events proved, as 
in the case of Napoleon, that his capacity was equally 
as great in the administration of government as in 
war. When once he had usurped the supreme author- 
ity, it is but just to his memory to say that he held 
the reins with a strong and steady hand ; that he gov- 
erned wisely and well. England enjoyed more of 
liberty, civil and religious, under the Protector, than 
she had ever known in the days of her kings. Reli- 
gious toleration was guarantied, and the right of con- 
science respected ; even the persecuted Jew, the out- 
law of civilization, wdio for ages had been under the 
ban of society and government, was no longer pro- 
scribed, but w^as brought within that wise and com- 
prehensive system of toleration which the Protector 
so liberally favored. The administration of Cromwell 
proved that he had a genius for government — that he was 
no vulgar usurper, but, like Napoleon Bonaparte, was a 
man gifted w4th that vigor of intellect and those great 



OHAPTEK II. 79 

mental endowments which enabled him to wield de- 
spotic authority for the glory and advantage of his 
country. The government so v/isely administered by 
the Long Parliament, lost not a whit of its resistless 
energy when it passed into the hands of the Protector. 
He made the British name renowned all over the 
world. His victorious armies defended the Protes- 
tant faith. His fleets swept the sea. His threat at 
once made the Sultan and the Roman Pontiff tremble. 
At his feet both France and Spain v^eve suppliants. 
Not a moment, from the time of Cromwell's accession 
to the supreme authority, to the day of his death, did 
England cease to rise in the scale of European politics ; 
not a moment did she pause in her splendid career, 
until Cromwell nearly realized his proud boast that he 
would make the name of Englishman as much honor- 
ed as that of Roman had been. 

Yet notwitstanding the vast capacity and splendid 
achivements of this celebrated man, the errors (to call 
them by no harsher name) of his political course are 
too glaring to be concealed. His conduct upon the 
trial of the king may be entirely justified by the same 
liberal judgment that absolves Bradshaw and his mble 
associates. Up to this time we have every reason to 
believe that he was sincere and honest in his 
attachment to the popular cause. Ambition and the 
lust of power had not yet found a chance to tamper 
with his conscience. It was not until after his Irish 
campaign, after his splendid victory at Dunbar, after 
his " crowning m.ercy" at Worcester, which completely 



80 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

annihilated the power of the enemies of the Common- 
wealth in the three kingdoms, and made him the idol 
of the army, that Cromwell was seduced from his alle- 
giance to the popular cause, and was drawn away to 
follow the path of ambition which his splendid suc- 
cesses had laid open before him. The forcible disso- 
lution of the Long Parliament was the first palpable 
manifestation of the new policy he had adopted. It 
gave the friends of republicanism distinctly to under- 
stand that he had formally cut loose from the common 
cause, and meant to trample under his feet the rights 
of popular representation. At this point the best and 
truest friends of the Commonwealth, Sidney, Vane, 
Bradshaw, and Marten abandoned him. The parlia- 
ment which he and his officers summoned, themselves 
nominating the members^ known in history as " Bare- 
bones Parliament," he found useless. He resolved to 
dissolve it. The majority of the members fell in with 
his plan and tendered him their resignation. The 
minority, among whom was General Harrison, the 
same that had assisted to pull Sidney and the Speaker 
from their seats, refused. The scene of the Long Par- 
liament was re-enacted. To the summons of Colonels 
GofFe and White to disband, Harrison, now no longer 
the dupe of Cromwell, asked these officers for their 
warrant ; " they returned no answer, but went and 
fetched two files of musquetiers, and did as good as 
force them out." A few days after, General Lambert, 
in the name of the army and the three nations, in- 
vested Cromwell with the title and dignities of Lord 



CHAPTEE n. 81 

Protector of the Commonwealth, and published an in- 
strument of government, how sanctioned or by whom 
written was best known to Cromwell himself. Such 
was the natural sequel to the forcible dissolution of 
the Long Parliament, and such the manner in which 
Cromwell usurped the supreme power. This step 
once taken, his whole subsequent career is explained. 
He stood before the world confessedly an usurper, 
holding his power by the sword, and the might of the 
omnipotent dictator made the right when he forced a 
portion of one of his parliaments to sign a pledge of 
fidelity to his person and government — when he dis- 
solved another at his own pleasure, because he could 
net control it — when he turned an hundred of its 
members out of doors — when he threw Vane, and Mar- 
ten, and Bradshaw into prison, and when he quartered 
his military governors and their satellites over England. 
The wisdom of his civil administration, the genius dis- 
played in his foreign policy, the glories of his govern- 
ment at home and abroad, cannot conceal these things, 
nor convince us that Oliver Cromwell did not prove 
untrue to the great trust which the battles of Dunbar 
and Worcester placed in his hands, and did not sacri- 
fice the liberties of his country to unholy ambition. 
It was the melancholy and oft repeated lesson of suc- 
cessful resistance to tyranny, followed by military 
usurpation. The Revolution, it is true, wrought great 
things for the general cause of freedom, yet on the 
whole it was a failure : but what might not that revo- 
lution have done for the people of England, if the 
4^ 



82 ALGERNON SmNEY. 

great soldier had remained steadfast and true to the 
cause of the people and liberty I 

A widely different character was that of Sir Henry 
Yane, commonly called the younger, one of the noblest 
and brightest names in the roll of British statesmen. 
Vane, like Sidney, was a descendant of one of the oldest 
families of the English nobility. Like Sidney he was 
also a dissenter from the Church of England, and 
embraced the doctrines of the Puritans. Like Sidney 
he was a member of the Long Parliament, but refused 
to sit in judgment on the king. Like Sidney he boldly 
faced Oliver Cromwell in his march to absolute power. 
Like him he remained steadfast and faithful to the 
end to the cause of civil and religious freedom, and 
dying like him, upon the scaffold, proclaimed his en- 
tire faith in the principles of his whole life, and his 
bright anticipations for the future. '* I die in the cer- 
tain faith and foresight that this cause shall have its 
resurrection in my death. My blood will be the seed 
sown by which this glorious cause will spring up which 
God will speedily raise." 

The profound intellect of Vane, and his genius as a 
statesman, as well as the beautiful consistency and 
purity of his character, have rarely been appreciated. 
The English historians of the school of Clarendon and 
Hume have done less justice to his memory than to 
that of almost any other public man of the age 
Clarendon, his bitter personal enemy, is indeed forced 
to concede his great capacity — that he was a man of 
" extraordinary parts, a pleasant wit, and a great un- 



CHAPTER n. 83 

derstanding ;" but Clarendon's mind, distorted by per- 
sonal and party prejudice, is unable to conceive, or if 
it does, has not the magnanimity to describe, the char- 
acter of Vane in anything like truthful colors. He 
accuses him of possessing " rare dissimulatiou," and 
if not superior to Hampden, of being " inferior to no 
other man in all mysterious mtijices^^ The political 
bigot Clarendon accuses the most liberal-minded of 
his contemporary statesmen of religious fanaticism, 
and even does not hesitate to utter or insinuate, v^hat 
he must have known was the grossest of calumnies, 
that Vane believed himself insjyired, and that he was 
the person " destined to reign over the saints a thou- 
sand years."^' Such are the sources from which Eng- 
lish history is derived. Clarendon, speaking of Vane's 
celebrated and successful negotiations with the com- 
missioners of Scotland, to induce that nation to unite 
with the Parliament, says — " There need no more be 
said of his ability than that he was chosen to cozen and 
deceive a ivliole nation which excelled in craft and 
cunning, which he did with notable pregnancy and 
dexterity." Hume, following Clarendon, was by no 
means insensible to the greatness of Vane as a states- 
man, and speaks of his splendid parliamentary talents 
and his capacity for business ; but Hume could not 
let pass the opportunity of depreciating the honest re- 
publican and the devout Christian. His writings, he tells 

* A wild but small sect of enthusiasts, o' whom General Harrison 
was one, believed that '• King Jesus" was about to appear and reign on 
earth for a thousand years. They were called " Fifth Monarchy men." 



84: ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

US, are " absolutely unintelligible ; no traces of elo- 
quence, or common sense appear in them." Hume's 
opinions of Yane's writings may well be placed on a 
par with his opinions of the writings of Sidney and 
Locke, which he calls "compositions the most despi- 
cable for style and matter." Criticism upon such 
opinions which have found their way into grave histo- 
ries is idle. It is delightful, however, to find at the 
present day these opinions fast becoming obsolete, and 
the prejudices of the past wearing away under the en- 
lightened judgments of men of no less penetrating and 
more liberal minds, than those of some of the histo- 
rians mentioned. The writings which to Hume were 
absolutely unintelligible, and in which he could find 
no traces of eloquence or even common sense, are thus 
spoken of by that accomplished scholar and statesman, 
Sir James Mackintosh : 

" Sir Henry Yane was one of the most profound 
minds that ever existed ; not inferior perhaps to Bacon. 
His works, which are theological, are extremely rare, 
and disi:>lay astonishing powers. They are remark- 
able as containing the first direct assertion of liberty 
of conscience." 

The man whom Clarendon found nothing but a reli- 
gious fanatic, full of rare dissimulation and all myste- 
rious artifices, receives from the pen of our own histo- 
rian, Bancroft, its beautiful and just tribute : 

" A man of the purest mind ; a statesman of spot- 
less integrity ; whose name the progress of intelligence 
and liberty will erase from the rubric of fanatics and 



CHAPTER II. 85 

traitors; and insert high among the aspirants after 
truth and the martys for liberty." Such indeed was 
Yane. Such did he appear to the best and purest 
men of his own time — to Roger Williams the pioneer 
of religious liberty in the wilderness of America — to 
Sidney and to Bradshaw, the devoted champions of 
civil freedom in his own country — to his friend John 
Milton, who knew him well, and offered him the 
homage of his genius in words so well known. 

" Vane, young in years but in sage counsels old, 
Than whom a better senator ne'er held 
The helm of Rome when gowns not arms repelled 
The fierce Epirot and th' African bold," &c. 

The name of Sir Henry Yane is connected with the 
history of our own country. He was one of the ear- 
liest governors of the colony of Massachusets. Unable 
to enjoy liberty of conscience in England, he turned 
his eye upon that band of hardy pioneers who had made 
their homes in the wilderness of America, and, against 
the remonstrances of his father and friends, he em- 
harked upon the ocean, to share the perils and hard- 
ships of the pilgrims in the new world. At the age of 
twenty-four, and only a year after his arrival in the 
colony, he was elected governor of Massachusetts. 
His brief but stormy administration, was conducted 
with a firmness and wisdom beyond his years, and 
withal in a spirit of liberality which proves him as a 
statesman to have been far in advance of his age. 
He returned to England in the year 1637. Events 



86 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

were fast ripening for that formidable convulsion which 
subsequently shook the kingdom — the contest between 
the principles of absolute monarchy and popular liberty. 
He returned to take part in it. He came to enrol him- 
self among the people — to fight for those high princi- 
ples of civil and religious freedom which he had pro- 
fessed in the new world, and to prove the sincerity of 
the actions of his whole life by a martyr's heroism upon 
the scaffold. 

Yane was elected a member of the ever memorable 
Long Parliament, having been also a member of the 
Parliament which immediately preceded it. He at once 
took a prominent stand in the ranks of its illustrious 
popular leaders. Among these, after the death of Pym 
and Hampden, Yane, though still a young man — but 
little more than thirty years of age — stood confessedly 
the ablest and first. In 1643 he concluded his cele- 
brated negotiation with tlio Scotch commissioners. 
Clarendon, after mentioning the name of Yane as one 
of the English commissioners, says — " the others need 
not be named, since lie was all in any business where 
others were joined with him." He co-operated, as we 
have seen, with Cromwell in procuring the re-organiza- 
tion of the army. He was one of the commissioners to 
treat with the king at the Isle of Wight, and in almost 
every other great public measure of the time, the name 
of Sir Harry Yane prominently appears. But when 
Cromwell's soldiers under Col. Pride " purged" a por- 
tion of the recusant Presbyterian majority out of the 
Parliament, Yane, though an Independent, refused t 



CHAPTER II. 87 

share in such a sad triumph, or sanction so gross an 
outrage against the people's representatives. He im- 
mediately absented himself from Parliament, and did 
not re-appear until after the trial and death of the 
king, a proceeding which, with Sidney, he entirely 
disapproved, being in favor of the wiser and more 
politic course — the deposing, and not the death of the 
monarch. But Vane cordially and faithfully, and 
energetically supported the new government and the 
commonwealth. He took his seat in the executive 
council, of which Bradshaw was president. His com- 
manding talents and experience at once placed him in 
a prominent and leading position. He was at the head 
of the naval department when the war with Holland 
came on. The disadvantageous terms under which 
England entered into the war, and its successful issue, 
have been spoken of in the extract already quoted from 
Sidney. Much of that success is undoubtedly due to 
the genius and statesmanship of Vane, although 
Cromwell when he arose to the supreme power main- 
tained the superiority of the Commonwealth ; and the 
successful soldier has thus appropriated to himself a 
fame w^hich more justly belongs to the less pretending 
statesman. 

Vane's noble stand against Cromwell's usurpation, 
his efforts to pass the bill for a popular representation, 
and his courageous conduct on the day of the dissolu- 
tion of the Long Parliament, have been already spoken 
of. Like Sidney he refused to accept office or employ- 
ment under the Protector, and remained in private 



88 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

life until the re- assembling of the Long Parliament. 
So bitter were Cromwell's feelings against him, that he 
caused him to be arrested and imprisoned on the pub- 
lication of one of his ablest works, " A Healing Ques- 
tion," addressed to Cromwell, wherein he urges the 
Protector to establish the public liberties by a funda- 
mental CONSTITUTION and a popular representation. 

On the Restoration, Yane was excepted from the 
general amnesty, but not until the king had pledge! 
the Commons that sentence of death should not be 
passed upon him. The pledge was shamelessly vio- 
lated. Vane, after suffering imprisonment nearly two 
years, was aaraigned and tried for high treason. He 
conducted his defence with the most consummate 
ability and manly courage. It was every way glo- 
rious. He fearlessly and proudly justified his politi- 
cal sentiments and his whole public career, in the face 
of a tyrannical government and an abject court. He 
had defended the liberties of Englishmen against the for- 
m.idable power of Charles I. ; he had boldly faced Oliver 
Cromwell in his march to arbitrary power ; he had 
denounced with scorn and contempt the feeble Richard 
in his ow^n Parliament ; it was not for such a man to 
purchase favor, or even life, by an abandonment of prin- 
ciple, or a truckling sycophancy to the restored monarch. 
Yane contended with great force of argument that 
he had acted under the authority of a Parliament of 
the people, which could commit no treason, and that 
Charles II. being out of possession and not de facto 
king, no treason could be committed against him. 



CHAPTER n. 89 

For several days he baffled his judges and the crown 
lawyers ; but Clarendon and Charles had resolved that 
Yane, as a man of " mischievous activity" must die.^ 
He was condemned contrary to law,t and sentenced 
to be executed. He walked with '' a serene, a calm, 
and almost a divine composure" to the scaffold. His 
last thoughts rested upon the " cause" which was so 
often on his lips, and for which he so cheerfully laid 
down his life. " I bless the Lord I have not deserted 
the righteous cause for which I suffer," he was heard 
to say. For a moment he prayed upon the scaffold 
that Grod would enable his servant who was about to 
suffer " to glorify thee in the discharge of 7iis duty to 
thee and to his country ;" then stretching out his 
hands the executioner at a blow severed his head from 
his body. 

The theory of government and political principles 
entertained by Yane, have been freely indicated in 
this w^ork. They may be briefly summed up in these 
three leading ideas, which formed the basis of a bill 
he reported to Parliament for establishing the govern- 
ment on the foundation of a democratic constitution. 

1st. That a fundamental constitution^ limiting the 
powers of government, ought first to be established. 

^ After the trial the king wrote to Clarendon, reminding him that Vane 
on his trial, had been '* so insolent as to justify all he had done." " If 
he was given new occasion to be hanged," remarked the faithless 
monarch, '• certainly he is too dangerous a man to let live, if we can 
honestly put him out of the xcayP 

t The highest authorities on the criminal law. Hale, Hawkins, Foster 
agree in this. 



90 ALGEEKON SIDNEY. 

2d. That by this constitution monarchy should be 
declared destructive to the people's liberties. 

3d. That magistrates should have no power to ex- 
ercise compulsion in matters of faith and' worship. 

In these elementary propositions is contained Yane's 
whole political creed. They assert the cardinal truths 
which lie at the foundation of our own institutions. 

It is impossible not to be struck with his elevated 
conceptions of religious freedom, or to admire his 
ceaseless and noble efforts in its behalf. Freedom of 
intellect and freedom of worship he regarded even 
more, if possible, than political liberty, as the inalien- 
able right of mankind. For this faith of his life he 
was always ready to sacrifice himself. From the 
commencement of his public career to his last hour on 
thQy scaffold, he continued to assert and defend it. 
Never, to the time of his death, did he cease to be the 
consistent and fearless champion of universal tolera- 
tion. He plead alike for Biddle and the gifted Mrs. 
Hutchinson. Over Jew as well as Grentile — over hea- 
then as well as Christian, he was willing the state 
should throw the broad segis of its protection. He 
heard unmoved the fiery denunciations of the pious, 
though somewhat narrow-minded Baxter ; he listened 
with calmness to reproof from his friends, when they 
gently chided him for giving expression to what they 
were pleased to consider as latitudinarian and dan- 
gerous doctrines. But the reproof died away and the 
denunciations fell harmless at his feet, as he met 
them with the noble reply that he dared not exclude 



CHAPTEE II. 91 

" even the heathen from his charity, since in doing 
that he might shut out those whom Christ, the great 
head of the Church, might possibly at the final day 
acknowledge and welcome as his own." 

In popular estimation the names of Pym and Hamp- 
den, as the champions of English liberty, entirely 
eclipse that of Sir Harry Yane. In our view, stand- 
ing upon the vantage ground of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, and in the midst of a more extended and success- 
ful development of democratic government than the 
world has yet seen, we should say this was but 
another of those errors which history has imposed 
upon mankind. Neither Hampden nor Pym compre- 
hended in its full extent, the whole theory of popular 
liberty. Their effort was to destroy arbitrary povv'er, 
to reform certain gross abuses, and to secure the inde- 
pendence of Parliament. They wished, however, to 
preserve, not to destroy, the constitution as it existed, 
and the monarchy ; they fought not against the king's 
person bat his prerogative. Vane's views went much 
further than this. Inferior in intellect to neither Pym 
nor Hampden, as a statesman he was superior to both. 
He comprehended the theory of democratic liberty and 
progress as we understand it on this side of the At- 
lantic ; and he proposed during his public career and 
boldly advocated its cardinal principles, such as free re- 
ligious as well as civil liberty, the separation of church 
and state, popular representation, and equal suffrage, 
the responsibility of the executive, and a written con- 
stitution. "While Pym and Hampden, the devoted 



92 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

champions of English constitutional liberty against 
arbitrary power, are justly entitled to the gratitude of 
their countrymen, Yane deserves the admiration as 
well as the gratitude of posterity and the world, as 
the statesman whose far-reaching intellect, in an age 
of intolerance in religion and absolutism in govern- 
ment, comprehended the full truth of the democratic 
principle, and stood forth the unflinching champion of 
the civil and religious liberties of the people/^ 

"^ In the foregoing reflections on Vane and Cromwell, the author has 
freely extracted from two magazine articles written by him and hereto- 
fore published. 



CHAPTEE III. 

Sidney's contemporaries — Bradshaw — Milton — Marten — Scot — Blake — 
Fairfax — St. John — Ireton — Sidney in retirement at Penshurst — 
Again visits the Hague — John De Witt — His character as a statesman 
— Meeting between him and Sidney — Patriotism and ability of De 
Witt — His death — Sidney returns from the Hague — Retires again to 
Penshurst — His literary pursuits — His amusements — Continued 
hostility to Cromwell and his government — Incurs the displeasure 
of his brother, Lord Lisle — Letter of Lord Lisle to his father — 
Downfall of the protectoral government — Reassembling of the Long 
Parliament — Sidney again a member of Parliament — In the executive 
council — Close of his legislative career — Reflections on the counter 
Revolution. 

The connection of Col. Sidney with the army and 
the Long Parliament, brought him into close and inti- 
mate relations with the leading republican statesmen 
of the Commonwealth. In the last chapter we have 
incidently glanced at the characters and public actions 
of two men of that period, most eminent for ability 
and influence — Cromwell and Vane — whose histories 
intimately blend with that of Sidney. The subject is 
sufficiently inviting to tempt a further digression, and 
to induce us to notice briefly two or three others of 
Sidney's contemporaries, in and out of Parliament, who 



94 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

SO ably upheld the fortunes of the English Common- 
wealth. 

Among these there is none whose character stands 
out so bold and striking, in its stern and almost severe 
distinctness of outline, as does that of John Bradshaw. 
The mention of the name at once brings before us a 
vivid and distinct conception of the chief judge who 
sat on the tribunal which condemned Charles Stuart 
as a traitor. We imagine a man of a grave and ma- 
jestic presence, as he has been described, seated on his 
crimson velvet chair in Westminster Hall, surrounded 
by his seventy associate judges, dressed in a loose robe 
of scarlet, his massive forehead partially concealed by a 
high-crowned, broad-brimmed beaver, lined with plated 
steel, ^ his austere and inflexible features betraying no 
shadow of emotion, and his deep and thoughtful eye 
fixed full upon the royal criminal arraigned before 
him. 

Bradshaw was educated a lawyer at Grray's Inns, 
and for many years before entering public life, enjoyed 
an extensive practice. Though not a member of the 
Long Parliament, he early entered into the views of 
the popular party, and sided with the Parliament in 
all its measures against the king. He was the kins- 
man of John Milton by the mother's side. The poet, 
whose political and religious sympaties, as well as his 
kindred blood, brought him into the most intimate 
relations with Bradshaw, has left a sketch of his 
character, in the second defence pro populo Anglicano, 
* The hat worn by Bradshaw on the trial, is still preserved at Oxford. 



CHAPTER III. 95 

SO truthful, and so well justified by all that we know 
of his life and opinions, that we cannot refrain from 
presenting the passage. " Being of a distinguished 
family, he devoted ihe early part of his life to the 
study of the laws of his country. Hence he became 
an able and an eloquent pleader, and subsequently 
discharged all the duties of an uncorrupt judge. In 
temper neither gloomy nor severe, but gentle and 
placid, he exercised in hisovv^n house the rights of hos- 
pitality in an exemplary manner, and proved himself 
on all occasions a faithful and unfailing friend. Ever 
eager to acknowledge merit, he assisted the deserving 
to the utmost of his power. Forward at all times to 
publish the talents and worth of others, he was always 
silent respecting his o\Yn. No one more ready to for- 
give, he was yet impressive and terrible when it fell 
to his lot to pour sham^e on the enemies of his country. 
If the cause of the oppressed was to be defended, if the 
favor or the violence of the great was to be withstood, 
it was impossible, in that case, to find an advocate 
more intrepid or more eloquent, whom no threats, no 
terrors, and no rewards could seduce from the plain 
path of rectitude." Such indeed was Bradshaw. 
Possessed of such attributes of character — of an in- 
tegrity and a purity of life against which no enemy 
has dared to breathe a whisper — of an impressive and 
majestic appearance — of a singularly resolute and de- 
termined mind, and a clear, cool, discriminating judg- 
ment, he was precisely the man to preside in the high 
court of justice convened to try the king. Bradshaw 



96 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

did not shink from the duty. While nearly half the 
commissioners appointed refused or neglected to attend 
the sittings of the court, Bradshaw was present from 
day to day, and as president arraigned the king, main-, 
tained the authority and jurisdiction of the court 
throughout, against his objections, and finally passed 
sentence upon him as a " tyrant, traitor, and public 
enemy." Perhaps a tribunal more imposing than this 
*' High Court of Justice" never assembled. All its 
proceedings were dignified and impressive ; nor could 
they fail to be so, while John Bradshaw presided over 
its deliberations. His deportment, at times, seems to 
be marked with almost too great a degree of austerity 
and sternness, but this was the unavoidable result of 
the singular position in which he was placed — a posi- 
tion that would have embarrassed a man of less 
decision of character and greatness of mind, than 
Bradshaw. When, in a full and firm voice, he had 
pronounced sentence on Charles, not as a king, but as 
a prisoner at the bar of his peers, the condemned 
monarch earnestly desired to be heard. Bradshaw in- 
terrupted him with the words — " Sir, you are not to 
be heard after sentence." Again Charles strove to 
speak, but was again silenced by the stern mandate — 
*' Guards, withdraw your prisoner." Once more, in 
accents of deep emotion, he asked to be heard as a 
favor, and not a right ; but the stern monasy liable from 
the lips of the president, '' Hold !" was the only an- 
swer to the prayer, and the king was almost forcibly 
carried out of the hall. 



CHAPTER m. 97 

Bradshaw was appointed president in the new ex- 
ecutive council, where he met with Oliver Cromwell 
as his colleague. We have seen that up to this time 
Cromwell had acted consistently with the common- 
wealth's-men. He had been upon terms of friendship, 
and even confidence, not only with Bradshaw, but with 
Vane, Milton, Marten and Sidney. It was not until 
after the battle of AYorcester, that Bradshaw began to 
suspect the sincerity of Cromwell.* That suspicion 
once confirmed, no one displayed a firmer courage in 
opposing the designs of the lord-general, or battled 
more manfully to sustain the Commonwealth. With 
Yane, and the republicans of the Commonwealth, he 
had borne an influential and prominent part in that 
successful administration which followed the first three 
years of the new government, himself, in many re- 
spects, the first man in England in station and honor, 
receiving, as president of the council, foreign ambas- 

* A letter of Bradshaw to Cromwell about the date of the battle of 
Worcester, is preserved, which indicates, on the part of the writer, the 
utmost confidence in the lord-general. A deep, religious tone pervades 
this letter, like those of all the Puritans, but it is staid and sober, like 
the character of Bradshaw, whose well-balanced mind never was car- 
ried away by the exaggerated enthusiasm of the period. It commences 
as follows : — " My Lord — By the hands of this trusty bearer, accept, I 
pray you, of this paper-remembrance and salutation of him who, both 
upon the publique and his owne private account, is very much your 
debtor, and with other your poore friends here, prayes for and adores 
the manifestation of God's gracious presence with you in all your weighty 
affaires, which as they are undertaken in zeal to God's glory and his 
people's good will, through contynuance of the same dyvine presence 
and mercy, be crowned with answerable successe." 

5 



98 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

sadors, and representing the executive government of 
the Commonwealth. With Vane and the republicans 
he stood manfully to the last, and manfully fell with 
the Commonwealth in the hour when Crom^well tram- 
pled under his feet the liberties of his country. Brad- 
shaw v/as president of the council on the day when 
the lord-general dissolved the Parliament. None but 
a man of his iron nerve and indomitable resolution, 

:,j could have sustained himself as he did on that occa- 

Ir sion. Cromwell having returned from "Whitehall, 

appeared before the council, backed by his guards, 

li and addressed them as follows : 

'■' " G-entlemen, if you are met here as private persons, 

you shall not be disturbed ; but if as a council of state, 
this is no place for you ; and since you cannot but 
know what was done in the morning, so take notice 
that the Parliament is dissolved." The eye of Brad- 
shaw, which had not quailed before the gaze of Charles 
Stuart, calmly encountered the troubled glance of the 
dictator ; the tongue which had not faltered to pro- 
nounce sentence upon his sovereign as a tyrant, traitor, 
and public enemy, answered firmly : " Sir, we have 
heard what you did at the House in the morning, and 
before many hours all England will hear it; but, sir, 
you are mistaken to say that the Parliament is dis- 
solved, for no power under heaven can dissolve them 
but themselves ; therefore take you notice of that." 
It was the last protest of the Commonwealth against 
a lawless military usurpation. Bradshaw and his fel- 
lows arose, and in silence withdrew. 



CHAPTER in. 99 

In the first Parliament summoned by Cromwell 
after he had assumed the office of Protector, Bradshaw 
was returned as a member. A formidable opposition 
was at once manifested, for the republicans had 
elected a large number of delegates, among whom were 
Scot and Sir Arthur Hazelrig. On the first day of the 
session, the partizans of the Protector nominated Len- 
thal for speaker ; the opposition presented Bradshaw, 
but finding themselves in a minority, did not press his 
election. On the very next day, Bradshaw arose and 
boldly moved to debate the question whether the 
House should approve the system of government de- 
vised by the Protector, and proclaimed by his military 
cabal. A fierce discussion ensued, which lasted several 
days. Cromwell, in alarm, stationed a guard of sol- 
diers around the doors of the House, and summoned 
the members to meet him in the Painted Chamber. 
Here, after a long and angry discourse, he inform- 
ed them that he should require each member to sign 
an engagement to be ^^ faithful to the Lord Protector 
and the Coinmonivealth, and not to consent to an 
alteration of the government^ as it teas settled in one 
PERSON and a Parliament.'''^ On their return to the 
House, the members found the guard still stationed 
round the doors, and a parchment containing the 
pledge lying for the signatures of such only as were to 
be admitted to their seats. Bradshaw, with Scot, 
Hazelrig, and about an hundred others, indignantly 
turned his back upon the scene, and retired from a 



100 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

Parliament which was again ruled by CrorawelPs 
soldiers. 

This Parliament being brought to an untim ly ter- 
mination, and a new one afterwards summon ^d, the 
republicans again appeared in the field ; but Cr mwell 
now resolved on energetic measures to prevc at the 
ablest and most influential from obtaining seats. 
Bradshaw, on some pretence, was arrested, and de- 
prived of his office of chief justice of Chester, which 
he had so ably filled. Yane, Ludlow, and Ivlarten 
were imprisoned. Yet among those elected wera Scot, 
Hazelrig, and other decided republicans. There, the 
Protector resolved to exclude, and accordingly, upon 
the assembling of Parliament, they found the doors 
again closed upon them by the military. Thus were 
the people of England, through their representatives, 
denied a voice in the councils of the nation ; arsd thus 
Bradshaw and his friends were finally excluded from 
all participation in the government. 

On the assembling of the Parliament summoned by 
the Protector Richard, in January, 1659, Bradshaw 
once more took his seat as a member. It is unneces- 
sary to say that he zealously co-operated with Yane, 
Scot, and his other republican associates, whose formi- 
dable opposition soon brought the new Protector s gov- 
ernment to a close. The Long Parliament v;as re- 
vived ; the old council of state re-instated ; anc Brad- 
shaw again took his seat in it as president. But his 
career was about to close. Death soon removed him 
from the scene of his labors. He died during this 



CHAPTER m. 101 

year, and the honors of a burial in Westminster Abbey, 
accompanied with the most imposing obsequies, testi- 
fied at once the general grief of a large portion of the 
nation, and its respect for his memory. He died tran- 
quilly in his bed, asserting with almost his latest 
breath, that if the king w^ere to be again tried and 
condemned, his would be the first voice to assent to 
the justice of the act. He was denied the glorious 
martyrdom which awaited some of his associates ; 
the closing eyes of the stern republican were not 
doome 1 to rest upon the disgusting orgies which 
ushered in the Restoration. But the malice of his 
enemii s pursued him beyond the grave. That sacred 
precin. t itself was no barrier to the vindictive wrath 
of the vengeful royalists. His tomb was ruthlessly 
violate 1, and his bones, with those of the dead Crom- 
well and Ireton, were hung on gibbets and in chains 
at Tyburn. His head was dissevered and placed on 
the top of Westminster Hall. '' What counsel would 
dare tc speak for him," exclaimed the solicitor-general 
on the trial of Vane, *' in such a manifest case of 
treason, unless he should call down the heads of his 
fellow traitors Bradshaw and Coke^ from the top of 
Westminster Hall." Such was the miserable vengeance 
which royalty, in the hour of its triumph, did not blush 
to inflict on the memory of the dead, as well as on the 
living ' hampions of popular liberty. 

* Colv3 acted as solicitor-general on the trial of the king, and was exe- 
cuted aftf r the Restoration. His head, with Bradshaw's, was placed on 
the top of Westminister Hall. 



102 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

John Milton was the kinsman and friend of Brad- 
shaw ; a humbler actor in the great battle for popular 
freedom, but a no less ardent and devoted champion 
of its sacred cause. The religious character of Milton, 
grave and serious without austerity, humble and de- 
vout, with no touch of cant, intolerance, or fanaticism, 
was the counterpart of Bradshaw's. His temper was 
more gentle and serene, his will less imperious, his 
manners more bland and insinuating, and his private 
life equally pure and irreproachable. His father, a 
London scrivener, educated him for the Church, but 
the puritanic notions of young Milton could not suffer 
him to " accommodate his conscience" to the slavish 
hierarchy of Laud. His motives for refusing to enter 
the Church are explained in his '' Reasons for Church 
Grovernment," and furnish the key to his after unre- 
lenting and bitter warfare with Episcopacy. He was 
destined of a child, he says, by his parents and friends 
to the Church, " till coming to some maturity of years 
and perceiving what tyranny had invaded the Church, 
that he who would take orders must subscribe slave 
and take an oath withal, which, unless he took with a 
conscience that v/ould retch, he must either straight 
perjure or split his faith ; 1 thought it better to prefer a 
blameless silence before the sacred office of speaking, 
bought and begun with servitude and forswearing." 
Milton left college to pursue his favorite studies of the 
Greek and Roman classics, and occasionally to employ 
his pen in those beautiful pieces of miscellaneous 
poetry, which of themselves, are enough to render his 



CHAPTER III. 103 

name immortal. His Comus, and his L'Allegro and 
Penseroso were written before he was twenty-seven 
years of age. "When the civil troubles in England 
commenced, Milton, v/hose speculative opinions from 
the first strongly inclined to republicanism, was travel- 
ling on the Continent. Abandoning his intention of 
visiting Sicily and Grreece, he returned home to share 
the labors and the fortunes of his friends who were 
battling for freedom. " I esteemed it dishonorable," 
he writes, " for me to be lingering abroad, even for the 
improvement of my mind, while my fellow citizens 
were contending for their liberty at home." 

Milton, in London, entered with zeal and ardor into 
the work of defending, with his pen, the doctrines of 
intellectual and moral freedom, of civil and religious 
liberty, which were so thoroughly interwoven into his 
mental constitution, as to become the controlling faith 
of his life. His theatre of action and usefulness was 
neither in the camp nor the senate, but upon the broad 
field of political and theological controversy which 
the press then laid open to the intellect of the age. 
In 1643, at the age of thirty-five, Milton married 
Mary Powel, the daughter of a jovial country gentle- 
man and zealous royalist. The serious manners and 
austere household of the Puritan, ill suited the gay 
and lively temper of the lady, and after a month of 
little happiness, as it may be imagined, to either 
party, she left his roof and returned again to her 
father. This matrimonial disagreement, was the 
practical argument, doubtless, which led his mind to 



104 ALGERNON SmNEY. 

adopt those firm and unalterable opinions respecting 
the lawfulness of divorce on the ground of disagree- 
ment and incompatibility of temper, which he never 
surrendered, and which prompted him to compose and 
publish his " Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce," and 
other writings, wherein he ably sustained his peculiar 
views. His wife, however, again returned to him ; 
expressed penitence for her desertion, and was received 
with kindness and affection. She lived with him to 
the day of her death, and left him three daughters. 
Milton was afterwards twice married. 

It is no part of our design in this brief sketch to 
notice Milton's poetic compositions, or any of his volu- 
minous and most neglected prose writings, except 
simply to allude to the latter for the purpose of illus- 
trating his political opinions, and the nature of the 
services rendered by him to the popular cause. We 
cannot pass by the Areopagitica^ published in 1644, 
when the Presbyterian majority, then in power, refused 
to abolish the laws restraining the liberty of the press. 
This noble defence of the liberty of unlicensed print- 
ing, has justly been pronounced " a precious manual 
of freedom, an arsenal of immortal weapons for the 
defence of man's highest prerogative, intellectual 
liberty."'^ The same eloquent pen has traced in truth- 
ful lines the character of the poet, as it appeared in 
vivid colors to the mind, whose benignity and great- 

* Dr Charming. Remarks on the Character and Writings of Milton, 
vol. 1, p. 28. 



CHAPTER ni. 105 

ness our countrymen have not yet learned sufficiently 
to vene ate. 

*' "Wf see Milton's greatness of mind in his fervent 
and coiistant attachment to liberty. Freedom, in all 
its forris and branches, was dear to him ; but espe- 
cially freedom of thought and speech, of conscience 
and worship, freedom to speak, profess, and propagate 
truth. The liberty of ordinary politicians, which pro- 
tects men's outward rights, and removes restraints 
from the pursuit of property and outward good, fell 
very short of that for which Milton lived and was 
ready to die. The tyranny which he hated most, was 
that wdiich broke the intellectual and moral power of 
the community. The worst feature of the institu- 
tions which he assailed was, that they fettered the 
mind." In these elevated views of freedom, it is im- 
possible not to admire the beautiful consistency and 
harmony existing between the views of Milton and 
those of his noble coadjutors in the cause in which he 
engaged, Sidney, Yane, and Marten. 

The trial and execution of the king found no more 
decided advocate than Milton, not even Bradshaw 
himsel'. He justified it in a tract entitled the " Tenure 
of Kir^s and Magistrates," on the very title page of 
which he asserts the right to put " a tyrant or wicked 
king" io death, after due conviction of guilt, thus 
striking at the root of the king's objection to the com- 
petenc/ and jurisdiction of the tribunal which con- 
demned him. 

Milton was a scholar of the most extensive and 



106 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

varied learning. His attainments were now put in 
requisition by the new government, which appointed 
him secretary to the council for foreign tongues, an 
office v>^hich the zeal and patriotism of the poet did 
not suffer him to decline. Whitelocke in his Memoirs 
casually mentions the humble labors of Milton in this 
station, with a self-complacency which in our day 
may well provoke a smile. The foreign secretary to 
the council, he says, " one Milton^ a blind man, 
was engaged in translating a treaty with Sweden." 
Strange to notice the singular changes wrought by 
time ! The Lord Commissioner Bulstrode Whitelocke, 
ambassador to Sweden, eminent in his day alike as a 
jurist, a civilian, and a diplomatist, could look down 
with contempt at the obscure foreign secretary, and 
would have smiled at the presumption that imagined 
a name so humble was destined to be transmitted to 
posterity with a lustre equal to his own. And yet, 
among the many millions of civilized men in both 
hemispheres the very name of Whitelocke, is almost for- 
gotten, while that of the great poet is repeated, from 
the palace to the meanest hove], with reverence and 
admiration ! The immortal epic of " Milton, the 
blind man," like the wonderful poem of that other 
blind man, 

" Of Scio's rocky isle"— 

the honor of whose birthplace was disputed by seven 
cities — was a work for all ages and all time, and has 
rendered its author's name immortal. 

During his secretaryship Milton rendered valuable 



CHAPTER m. 107 

services to the Commonwealth by his vigorous and 
energetic pen. The Ikon Basilike^ published by the 
royalists immediately after the king's death, and by 
some attributed to the pen of the king himself, pro- 
duced a profound impression among the people. An 
answer from Milton's pen, entitled Iconoclastes, im- 
mediately appeared, in which the popular cause is 
sustained with convincing argument and triumphant 
success. This is considered one of the ablest of his 
political essays. Soon after appeared another royalist 
publication, Defensio Reg'is, by Salmasius; filled with 
the most bitter invective, and even scurrilous person- 
alties, against the leaders of the popular party, and 
particularly against Milton himself. The secretary 
undertook to reply, and commenced his famous De- 
fensio pro Populo Anglicano^ a work of unanswer- 
able power, kindled into a noble and lofty eloquence 
by the intense earnestness and glowing zeal of the 
writer, and by the greatness of the theme he discusses. 
If his ardor carried him beyond the bounds of pro- 
priety, if he indulged in too violent invective, and suf- 
fered himself to be betrayed into discreditable personal 
acrimony, it may be attributed to the nature of the 
controversy, to the grossly offensive challenge he had 
received, and to the excited 'temper and spirit which 
grew out of the times, and characterized all such dis- 
quisitions. Apart from these blemishes, the effort was 
a tribute fit for genius to lay upon the altar of liberty. 
When first appointed to his place, he had not yet be- 
come entirely blind — though intense study and literary 



108 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

labor had greatly impaired his sight. His physicians 
distincly warned him that the consequence of this 
exertion would be the utter loss of sight. Milton per- 
sisted. His was not the same courage which nerves 
the soldier to meet death at the cannon's mouth ; but 
it was a courage of a higher and nobler description, a 
serene, a self-sacrificing, an almost sublime heroism, 
which can only exist with true magnanimity of soul 
From his '' Defence of the People of England," Milton 
arose blind. The faith which sustained him through 
his labors, and the calm satisfaction with which, 
through his sore affliction, he was enabled to look back 
upon them, are beautifully expressed in that touching 
sonnet to his friend Cyriac Skinner — the spontaneous 
outburst of a heart whose warmest aspirations were for 
liberty. 

" Cyriac, this three years' day, these eyes, though clear, 

To outward view, of blemish or of spot, 

Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; 

Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear 
Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year. 

Or man or woman. Yet I argue not 

Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot 

Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer 
Right onward. What supports me, doth thou ask ? 

The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied 

In liberty's defence ; my noble task. 
Of which all Europe rings from side to side. 

This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask, 

Content, though blind, had I no better guide." 

Milton acquired a high reputation both at home and 
abroad by this production. The Parliament, as a re- 



CHAPTER m. 109 

compense for his services, voted him a thousand 
pounds ; it also granted him an allowance to maintain 
a table for the purpose of entertaining foreign ambas- 
sadors, and eminent literary strangers, on their arrival 
in England, which allowance was afterwards continued 
under Cromwell's government. Notwithstanding his 
loss of sight, his pen was employed with unwearied 
assiduity in the service of the Commonwealth. A 
year or two afterwards he published a second defence 
of the English people against an attack similar to that 
of Salmasius. From this paper the extract already 
quoted respecting Bradshaw is taken. 

On Cromwell's rise to the supreme power, Milton 
continued in his office. His course, in this respect, 
has been censured, perhaps justly ; yet it should be 
remembered that while the lofty independence of Yane, 
and the inflexible spirit of Sidney, scorned to accept 
favor or place under him whom they justly regarded 
as an usurper, the less pretending and humble sphere 
which Milton had filled might well appear to him the 
path of his present duty. Yet, in his place under the 
Protector, he sacrificed none of his independence or 
freedom of thought and action. The sonnet addressed 
by him to Cromwell, is too well known to be here re- 
peated. In his second defence he addresses him in 
the language of friendly and frank admonition. '' Re- 
collect that thou thyself can'st not be free unless we 
are so ; for it is fitly so provided in the nature of 
things, that he who conquers another's liberty in the 



110 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

very act loses his own ; he becomes, and justly, the 
foremost slave." 

The suffering of the Yaudois in the valleys of Pied- 
mont deeply enlisted the sympathy of Milton, as in- 
deed of the whole English people, and called from him 
the noble lines commencing : 

"Avenge, O Lord! thy slaughtered saints, whose bones 
Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold."' 

Milton himself conducted the negotiations which 
Cromwell carried on with the French ambassador ; 
and so resolute was the Protector that he refused to 
sign the French treaty with Mazarin, until he had re- 
ceived satisfactory assurance that the interference of 
France had procured a general amnesty to the suffer- 
ing Vaudois, and had restored these persecuted Chris- 
tians to their ancient privileges. 

It does not appear that Milton ever fell under the 
displeasure of Cromwell. His name is found among 
the five secretaries who formed part of the magnificent 
procession which followed the dead body of the Protec- 
tor to Westminster Abbey. Ever true to his republi- 
can sentiments, he vigorously opposed the Restoration. 
On the occurrence of that event, it was to be expected 
that the author of " Iconoclastes" and the " Defences 
of the People," would be excluded from the general 
amnesty ; but, strangely enough, his name was not 
found in the act. He was, however, arrested in the 
place where he had taken refuge, but was released, it 
is said, by the friendly interference of Sir Williar^v 



CHAPTER ni. Ill 

Davenantj to whom he had been of service on an occa- 
sion of similar danger. Reduced to poverty, Milton 
now retired to a humble and obscure residence in 
London, married his third wife, and, separated entirely 
from the excitement and asperities of political contro- 
versies, applied himself to literary pursuits during the 
remainder of his life, which closed in 1674, in the 
sixty-sixth year of his age. During the first years of 
his retirement, his mind was engrossed with the com- 
position of that sublime poem which has immortalized 
his name. Milton doubtless wrote it with the con- 
sciousness that posterity alone was to appreciate its 
merits. A small and unpretending volume, entitled 
" Paradise Lost," on which the publisher had ventured 
to advance five pounds, first appeared in 1667. The 
wits of Buckingham Palace and Whitehall sneered at 
the book, if indeed they met with it at all, and the 
men of letters as well as the courtiers of that and the 
succeeding reign, turned with affected disgust from 
the writings of an author who had penned the answer 
to Salmasius. The noblest genius can never soar 
above the combined influence of political animosity 
and a corrupt taste ; and it is not therefore strange that 
for many years the Paradise Lost should have found 
no place in English literature. The work of the de- 
spised republican, whose memory was assailed with 
the same rancorous ferocity which assailed the memory 
of his dead kinsman, whose head graced the top of 
Westminster Hall — of the man whose political writ- 
ings, with Buchanan's and Baxter's, the University of 



112 ALGEENON SIDNEY, 

Oxford ordered to be publicly burned, was at that day 
undeserving even of criticism. No wonder is it that 
the Paradise Lost was so long treated with neglect, 
in an age when Vv^its and men of letters would turn 
aside from the brilliant satire of Dryden, to gloat over 
the ribald jests of Rochester and the licentious 
comedy of Wycherly. The prejudice extended even 
beyond that better era which marked the downfall of 
the house of Stuart ; and it was not till a succeeding 
reign, that the cultivated mind and refined taste of an 
Addison drew Milton from his obscurity, and placed 
him on the eminence he now occupies, by the side oi 
Homer, of Yirgil, and of Dante — foremost among the 
greatest poetic geniuses of antiquity or of modern 
times. 

Henry Marten, or as he is more familiarly called, 
Harry Marten,* was one of the most active and decided 
of the republican statesmen of that day. Not only 
was he a statesman and a man of genius, but a scholar 
and a wit. Although his character is not wholly 
without blemish, yet there is much in it to respect and 
admire. His errors and failings, for the most part, 
were those into which he was betrayed by an impul- 
sive temper and a convivial disposition. Marten was, 
in taste and by nature, a cavalier ; and doubtless he 

* So Marten styled himself. On his trial he denied that his name 
was in the act excepting him from pardon. The clerk, on producing the 
act, read the name " Henry Marten," to which he replied—-' Henry Mar- 
ten ? my name is not so ; it is Harry Marten." The Court overruled his 
objection. 



CHAPTER III. 113 

would have been so by association, had not his republi- 
can theories and his enthusiastic notions of liberty led 
him from the first day of his public life to go hand in 
hand with those who went farthest in the popular 
cause. He had no feeling in common with the reli- 
gious austerity of the Puritans, and yet with the Pu- 
ritans he labored zealously in the common cause. His 
vivacity, his joyous, mercurial disposition, his fondness 
for conviviality, and the elegant luxuries of a society 
that Puritanism did not tolerate, made him the very 
antipode of such men as Cromwell, Vane, and Brad- 
shaw ; and yet these men were not only his intimate 
political associates, but his friends ; whose strict man- 
ners and stern morality Marten could respect and 
esteem, while they in turn could pass by in silence, 
or complacently listen to, the witty and sometimes 
reckless sallies which fell from the lips of one whose 
fidelity to the popular cause had been so thoroughly 
tried, and whose genius and eloquence had rendered 
such signal services to the Commonwealth. Marten, 
says Aubrey, was " as far from a Puritan as light 
from darkness." Bishop Burnet says of him that he 
never entered into matters of religion; that he "was 
all his life a most violent enemy of monarchy, but all 
that he moved for was upon Greek and Roman princi- 
ples." Upon this view of his character, sustained as 
it is by Mr. Hume, who classes him with Challoner, 
Harrington and those whom he calls the Deists of tho 
Revolution, or as Cromwell styled them, tho " hea- 
then," Marten and his associates have been likened 



114: ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

to the Girondins in the French Convention, who 
ieified liberty, and whose imaginations, glowing with 
the inspiration kindled by the study of antiquity, 
saw arising upon the ruins of feudalism their own 
ideal republic. Marten's gaiety of temper and bril- 
liancy of conversation are noticed by one of his 
inveterate enemies, old Anthony Wood, whose pen 
very rarely indulged in anything respecting him but 
abuse. "We quote a passage, the latter part of which, 
perhaps, may be a calumny : 

" He was a man of good natural parts, a boon fami- 
liar, witty and quick with repartees ; was exceedingly 
happy in apt instances, pertinent and very biting, so 
that his company being esteemed incomparable by 
many, would have been acceptable to the greatest 
persons, only he would be drunk too soon, and so put 
an end to all the mirth for the present." 

One or two specimens of Marten's repartee and ''apt 
instances" may be given, as we find them in the pages of 
an entertaining modern writer,* collected from various 
sources. In drawing the remonstrances of the army 
which changed the monarchy to a commonwealth, Mar- 
ten used the expression " restored to its ancient govern- 
ment of commonwealth." A member arose to repri- 
mand him for asserting the antiquity of the Common- 
wealth. Marten whimsically replied — " There was a 
text which had often troubled his spirit, concerning 
the man who was blind from his mother's womb, but 

* Forster. Statesmen of the Commonwealth. Life of Marten. 



CHAPTER HI. 115 

at length whose sight was restored to the sight which 
he should have had.'''' 

On another occasion Cromwell, in the heat of some 
debate, called his old friend " Sir Harry Marten." 
The wit arose, and bowing very gravely, replied — '' I 
thank your majesty. I always thought when you were 
king, that I should be knighted.''^ 

A Puritan member, offended at some light remark 
dropped by Marten, suggested that it would be well to 
have a motion to expel "all profane and unsanctified 
persons." To this Marten replied, in a serious tone, 
that he should move " that all fools might be put out 
likewise, and then the House might probably be found 
thin enough." 

His pleasantry did not desert him in the darkest 
and most trying hour of his life. In the petition for 
a reprieve, which he presented on being condemned to 
death with the regicides, he observes that he had sur- 
rendered himself upon the king's ' ' declaration of Breda," 
and that since " he had never obeyed any royal pro- 
clamation before this, he hoped that he should not be 
hanged for taking the king's word nov/." 

The father of Marten, the most eminent civilian of 
his day, had left him a large fortune, which, says 
Anthony "Wood, "his ungodly son, Harry, squandered 
away." A large share of it, however, it should have 
been added, was squandered in the service of the pub- 
lic, he having contributed to the Parliament on one 
occasion the sum of d£3000. Becoming embarrassed 
in his circumstances, he presented a petition praying 



116 ALGEENON SYDNEY. 

the settlement of his arrears as colonel in the army, 
but it was not very speedily acted upon. On this 
occasion Marten, having heard that some recent un- 
worthy appointments had been made, remarked— 
" That he had seen at last the Scripture fulfilled : 
* Thou hast exalted the humble and the meek : thou 
hast filled the empty with good things, but the rich 
thou hast sent empty away.' " 

Marten was elected to the Long Parliament from the 
county of Berks, having been also a member of the 
Parliament which met in April of that year. His re- 
putation for learning and ability was already estab- 
lished, and he soon, by his forensic talent placed him- 
self in the foremost rank as a parliamentary debater. 
"His speeches," says Aubrey, "were not long, but 
wondrous poignant, pertinent, and witty." He had 
contracted friendships with the most eminent men of 
the day, Pym, Hampden, Fiennes, and Hyde, after- 
wards Lord Clarendon. It is unnecessary to say that 
his theoretic opinions, at this early day, were decidedly 
republican, though he found no proper occasion to 
avow them publicly. In a private interview, however, 
with Hyde, he did not hesitate, with that frankness 
and freedom of speech so natural to him, to express 
his disapprobation of the monarchical principle. " I 
do not think," he says, " one man wise enough to gov- 
ern us all." The future lord-chancellor was shocked 
at the sentiments which had so early entered " into 
the hearts of some desperate persons," and left him 
without reply. So resolute was Marten's opposition to 



CHAPTER in. 117 

all the arbitrary measures of Charles, that on the 
breaking out of the civil war, he was, with Pym, 
Hampden, and Hollis, specially excepted from pardon 
in the king's proclamation. But he resolutely and 
steadily continued his opposition to the royalists and 
the royal cause, and was the very first man in 
England publicly to avow his preference for a republi- 
can form of government, and to declare upon the 
floor of the House, that " it were better one family 
should be destroyed than many." On being question- 
ed to explain whom he meant. Marten boldly answered, 
" The king and his children !" For this he was ex- 
pelled the House and committed to the Tower, 
although his friend Pym, while he disapproved the 
language, endeavored in vain to extenuate it. Mar- 
ten was a prisoner only two weeks, but he did not re- 
sume his seat in the House until a year and a half 
afterwards. From that time to the period of Crom- 
well's usurpation of the government, his name is 
intimately blended with every great public measure 
of the day, and is found inseparably associated with 
the names of Yane, Sidney, Scot, Bradshaw, and St. 
John. The political views of Marten were those enter- 
tained in common by these illustrious men, and the great 
measures of public policy they advocated found in 
him a ready and most efficient supporter. Perhaps in 
his speculative views of social progress and political 
equality, in his theory of a pure republican govern- 
ment and institutions, he may have gone beyond the 
more sober views of some of his associates, and have 



118 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

sympathised too deeply with the speculations of Har- 
rington, the author of the " Oceana," or of Neville,* 
the author of the " Plato Redivivus ;" but in all his ac- 
tions Marten was the wise and practical statesman, 
and the firm, steady, and consistent friend of free in- 
stitutions. In his views of a full and ample religious 
toleration, he went beyond some even of the most libe- 
ral of the Independents. There was no fetter to the 
intellect and conscience, no restriction upon creed or 
race, that he was not willing to remove ; and to his last- 
ing honor be it said, that he was the first to propose a 
repeal of the statute against the Jews, who for three 
hundred and fifty years in England had been a pro- 
scribed and persecuted race. A higher and more 
honorable mention still is made of him as a legislator, 
that when mercy was to be shown, or an act of liberal 
or kind-hearted justice done, Henry Marten was sure 
to be found not wanting. 

If he trusted too far to the good faith and sincerity 
of Cromwell, he was the first to acknowledge his 
error. If he made a mistake in countenancing the 
military outrage of Col. Pride against the Presbyte- 
rian majority in the Parliament, he amply atoned for 
it by his noble conduct on the day of the dissolution 
by Cromwell, when with Vane and Sidney, he indig- 
nantly turned his back on the usurper, and abandoned 
him forever. Nor did Marten ever recognize his gov- 
ernment ; and though subsequently imprisoned, he 

* These also are classed by Hume with Sidney and Marten among the 
DehU of the Revolution. 



CHAPTER III. 119 

firmly refused to acknowledge his power or yield to- 
his authority. 

On the trial of the king, Marten was a member of 
the commission, and, with the exception of Cromwell, 
the most active and influential member of the high 
court of justice. During the whole of the prior pro- 
ceedings, no one contributed so much toward prepar- 
ing the way for the Commonwealth. He was upon 
the committee to prepare charges against the king ; 
he was a member of the executive government, and 
concerted all the measures, with Ireton and others, for 
altering the regal insignia into the symbols of a repub- 
lic. To CromwelPs question what answer they should 
give the king, when he asked them by what authority 
he was to be tried. Marten replied — " In the name of 
the Commons and Parliament assembled, and all the good 
people of England." Marten sat through the whole of 
the trial, and was one of the fifty-nine commissioners 
who signed their names to the death-warrant. On this 
occasion a scene is recorded between Cromwell and 
Marten, which certainly exhibits an unbecoming levity 
of character on the part of both, at such a time, and in 
the execution of so stern a duty. Cromwell, having 
signed his name, laughingly marked Marten's face with 
the pen, which Marten, in the same spirit, returned. 
It was charged against Marten at his trial, as an evi- 
dence of malice, that this was done " merrily and in 
great sport." " That does not imply malice," the 
prisoner quietly replied. 

Marten was elected a member of the executive 



120 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

council in tlie new Commonwealth : and certainly no 
one exhibited greater ability in setting in motion the 
new machinery of the government. He introduced a 
bill for the sale of the ro}?al property, including the 
king's lands, n galia, furniture, jewelry, and paintings, 
and assisted in organizing the courts of justice under 
the new order of things. At the re-assembling of the 
Long Parliament on the abdication of Richard Crom- 
well, Marten re-appeared upon the scene, and made 
his last stand for a commonwealth against the designs 
of the traitor General Monk. At the restoration, he 
was excepted, as to life and property, out of the act of 
indemnity and oblivion ; and in October, 1660, was 
brought to trial, at the Old Bailey, before the thirty- 
six commissioners appointed to try the regicides. 
Among these commissioners sat Marten's old friend 
Hyde, now lord-chancellor, eager to shed the blood of 
the colleague by whose side, twenty years before, he 
had sat in the Long Parliament. Sir Anthony Ashley 
Cooper, formerly an active Parliament man, afterwards 
one of the godly members of the " Barebone Parliament," 
now a zealous royalist, sat by the side of the double 
traitor, G-eneral Monk, Duke of Albemarle, who had 
fought for and against the king. It is humiliating to 
find also on that judgment seat, Hollis, who, with the 
prisoner at the bar, had been excepted by name from 
the general pardon proclaimed by Charles ; and even 
the Earl of Manchester, under whose victorious ban- 
ner Cromwell and Sidney had fought at Marston Moor. 
The defence of Marten on his trial was dignified, but 



CHAPTER ni. 121 

mild and conciliatory. He regretted the blood shed in 
the civil war, and the death of the king, but justified 
his conduct on the ground that he acted on what he 
supposed a lawful authority. As to King Charles II., 
he avov/ed his willingness to pay him obedience so 
long as the representative body supported him. The 
mildness of his defence, however, availed him nothing 
on his trial ; he was convicted, and sentenced to be 
executed. The sentence would, undoubtedly, have 
been carried into effect, had not the numerous friends 
of Marten, who, in palmier days, shared his convi- 
viality and enjoyed the charms of his society, made 
great interest for him in the House of Lords. He 
had not hurled defiance at his judges on the trial, as 
did some of the regicides, and since his conviction he 
had manifested a submission that the court mistook 
for penitence. His sentence was accordingly com- 
muted to imprisonment for life. He lingered twenty 
years, and died in prison. Toward the close of his 
life, the old man was asked whether if the deed were 
to be done again, he would sign the warrant for the 
execution of Charles I. Wrth a firm voice he an- 
swered, " Yes." The poet Southey, before he became 
the laureate of George lY., wrote an inscription for 
the apartment in which Marten was confined, contain- 
ing the following noble lines : 

"Dos't thou dLskJiis crime? 
He had rebelled against a king, and sat 
In judgment on him — for his ardent mind 
Shaped goodliest plans of happiness on earth, 



122 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

And peace and liberty. Wild dreams ! 
But such as Plato loved ; such as with holy zeal 
Our Milton worshipped. Blest hopes ! Awhile 
From man withheld even to the latter days, 
When Christ shall come and all things be fulfilled." 

A different fate was that of Marten's heroic fiiend 
and colleague, Thomas Scot. It is impossible to con- 
ceive of a man of greater nerve, and of a more inflexi- 
ble courage, physical or moral, than Scot. He was a 
member of the Long Parliament, an ardent and enthu- 
siastic republican, the friend of Sidney, Yane, Marten, 
and Bradshavi^. He sat in the high court of justice as 
one of the commissioners to try the king. In the new 
government, Scot's well-known integrity and great de- 
votion to the public interest, were such as to cause 
him to be selected, with Edmund Ludlow and three 
others, to choose the new council of state. With 
Bradshaw he took his seat as a member of Oliver 
Cromwell's Parliament, where, with the same energy 
that had marked his efforts for the popular cause in the 
Long Parliament, he assailed the arbitrary measures of 
the Protector. Portions 'of Scot's speeches in Oliver's 
Parliaments, and in the Parliament of the Protector 
Richard, yet remain. They prove that he was a man 
of undoubted ability, gifted with a nervous and lofty 
eloquence, and unquestionably one of the most accom- 
plished debaters of the day. His mind was impulsive 
and ardent. Sometimes his ardor betrayed him into a 
too impassioned declamation. A tone of fierce defiance, 
of fiery sarcasm, breathes through his sentences ; but 



CHAPTER m. 123 

withal there is a dignity, and often a startling ma- 
jesty of expression in his language, which must have 
arrested the attention of every hearer. " Shall I," he 
exclaimed in a speech against Cromwell's House of 
Lords, " shall I, that sat in a Parliament which brought 
a king to the bar and the block, not speak my mind 
freely here ?" And again — '' The lords would not 
join in the trial of the king. "We must lay things 
bare and naked. We were either to lay all that blood 
of ten years' war upon ourselves or upon some other 
object. We called the king of England to our bar and 
arraigned him. He was, for his obstinacy and guilt, 
condemned and executed ; and so let all the enemies 
of Grod perish I" 

" I am not ashamed of the title," he exclaims a few 
days after, referring to the title given the House by 
Cromwell's quasi " lords." •' It is not enough that 
they christen themselves, but they christen you — that 
you are ' Commons.' I am not ashamed of the title, 
it being the greatest honor under heaven to serve the 
people in the meanest capacity in this house, all power 
being originally in the peopleP 

No one act of his whole life, did Scot more boldly 
and proudly justify, everywhere, and on all occasions, 
than the condemnation of Charles Stuart. In Richard 
Cromwell's Parliament, while battling by the side of 
Vane, against the resolution which recognized the 
'' undoubted right" of the Protector, and striving to 
bring back the government to the simple form of a re- 
public, as it had existed before the usurpation of 



124 ALGEEKON SIDNEY. 

Oliver. He thus vindicated his motives and his con 
duct on the trial of the king: " It was impossible to 
continue him alive. I wish all had heard the grounds 
of our resolutions in that particular. I would have 
had all our consultings in for o as anything else was. 
It was resorted to as the last refage. The representa- 
tives, in their aggregate body, have poiver to alter or 
change any government^ being thus conducted by 
Providence. The question was — whose was that 
blood that was shed ? It could not be ours. Was it 
not the king's by keeping delinquents from punish- 
ment and raising armies ? The vindictive justice 
must have his sacrifice somewhere. The king was 
called to a bar below to answer for that blood. We 

Dm NOT ASSASSINATE, OR DO IT IN A CORNER. We DID 
IT IN THE FACE OF GOD AND OF ALL MEN." 

And subsequently, in another speech in the same 
Parliament, Scot delivered this impassioned exclama- 
tion — " I would be content it should be set on my 
monument — if it were my last act I own it — I was 
ONE OF THE king's JUDGES ! I hopc it shall not be said 
of us as of the Romans once — O homines ad servitu- 
tern parati .'" 

But the hope of the indomitable republican was 
doomed to disappointment. A few brief months re- 
vealed to him the disheartening truth that the English 
people, like the degenerate Romans, were already pre- 
pared for slavery. Scot rc-assembled with his intrepid 
associates in the Long Parliament ; and during the 
brief period of the restoration of the Commonwealth, 



CHAPTER m. 125 

endeavored to counteract the popular revulsion which 
was rapidly bearing the nation onward to monarchy. 
When Monk had marched his army upon London, 
when Jie restoration of the monarchy was resolved on, 
and til i Long Parliament was about finally to dissolve, 
many of the Presbyterian members desired to excul- 
pate t lemselves, and make their peace with the re- 
turnin,y royalists, by passing a resolution denouncing 
the '' horrid murder" of the late king. One weak- 
spirited member arose to protest that he had neither 
hand nor heart in that affair. Then Scot stood up — 
his spirit unconquered and unyielding, amid the wreck 
of all the hopes he had cherished for freedom — and 
with a stern, moral courage, that may well be called 
heroic, fearlessly avowed his participation in the deed: 
" Though I knov/ not where to hide my head at this 
time, yet I dare not refuse to own, that not only my 
hand, but my heart also, was in it !" They were the 
last words he uttered in Parliament. With his fellow 
" regicides," he was dragged to the bar of the Old 
Bailey, and arraigned for high treason. The heroism 
of his defence was worthy the intrepidity of his whole 
public career. With proud exultation he justified his 
conduct on the principle he had always avowed, that 
with the people rested the sovereign power to alter or 
change their government, and to bring their rulers to 
account ; and far from craving or expecting mercy, 
he hurled an almost fierce defiance at his judges and 
the royal authority. Nor did he shrink from avowing 
on the scaffold his unalterable devotion to the cause 



126 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

for whicli he suffered. He blessed Grod '' that of his 
free grace he had engaged him in a cause not to be 
repented of — I say in a cause not to be repented 

of ." Here the sheriff interfered, and the sentence 

died away on the lips of the martyred regicide I 

It would be pursuing this digression too far should 
we notice, in detail, all the eminent contemporaries of 
Sidney, who united with him in establishing and sus- 
taining the Commonwealth. We must therefore pass 
over the names of such men as Blake, the illus- 
trious admiral, whose flag never declined the challenge 
of an enemy ; of Fairfax, the resolute and able com- 
mander-in-chief of the armies of the Parliament ; of 
Ludlow, the frank-hearted and valiant soldier, and the 
honest and consistent republican ; of Cromwell's kins- 
man, Oliver St. John, lord chief justice of England, 
decidedly one of the ablest statesmen of the age, who, 
though he subsequently adhered to the Protector's gov- 
ernment, yet with Vane, Marten, and Bradshaw, ren- 
dered the noblest service to the popular cause. One 
name, however, stands out too prominent and illustri- 
ous on the annals of that period, to be passed over in 
silence — it is the name of Henry Ireton, the splendor 
of whose talents gave promise of the most noble ser- 
vices, and whose premature fate has been universally re- 
gretted by all who sympathize with the popular cause. 
Ireton was bred to the bar. It is remarkable 
that the great mass of the legal profession, and the 
most learned and able members of that profession, ad- 
hered to the Parliament and the cause of the people ; 



CHAPTER in. 127 

although some of them, such as Maynard, Grlyn, and 
Cooper, subsequently suffered themselves to be made 
the tools of royalty. Among the eminent lawyers who 
sustained the popular side during either the common 
wealth or the protectoral government, (besides the 
names just mentioned,) were Sir Matthew Hale, Sel- 
den, Whitelocke, St. John, Rolle, Aske, Coke, Brad- 
shaw, and Nicholas. 

Having joined the parliamentary army, Ireton soon 
acquired the entire confidence of Cromwell, whose 
daughter Bridget he married. On the remodelling of 
the army, and the appointment of Fairfax, general-in- 
chief, with Cromwell as his lieutenant and general of 
the horse, Ireton was named one of the twenty-six 
colonels. More fortunate than Sidney, who received 
his appointment at the same time, Ireton was enabled 
at once to take the field under Cromwell, and joining 
the army of Fairfax, participated in the decisive battle 
of Naseby. Cromwell's faculty in the discrimination 
of character was no less remarkable than Napoleon's. 
No one m.ore thoroughly understood or justly appre- 
ciated the great qualities of Ireton and the superiority 
of his genius. Indeed, if he had a confidant in the 
world — if there was one man to whom, without re- 
serve, the inner workings of that incomprehensible 
mind were laid open — that man was Ireton. There 
was no person in the army, or out of the army, on 
whose judgment and counsels the lord general so 
firmly relied, as upon his able and accomplished son- 
in-law. In the great battle of Naseby, though Fairfax 



128 ALGEBNON SIDNEY. 

was nominally commander-in-chief, Cromwell was in 
reality the master spirit, and made the principal ar- 
rangements for the fight. At his instance Fairfax 
conferred on Ireton, upon the field, the rank of com- 
missary-general, and entrusted to him the important 
command of the left wing of the army. Cromwell 
himself held the right, and Fairfax and Skippon com 
manded the centre. The conduct of Ireton upon that 
day was the conduct not only of an able and skillful 
commander, but of a hero. He was placed in the 
hottest part of the battle, to face the charge of Rupert 
and his cavalry ; nor had Cromwell over-estimated the 
indomitable courage of the lion-hearted soldier. His 
command, it is true, yielded before that terrible charge, 
which never, save by Cromwell, was successfully re- 
sisted, but Ireton, with desperate valor rallied it 
again and again to the contest. It was not till 
he was carried a prisoner, wounded and insen- 
sible, from the field, that the left wing was finally 
routed. But the day was not lost while Cromwell's 
Ironsides remained unbroken. The great general, by 
one of those rapid and overwhelming movements which 
so often turned the scale of battle, retrieved the for- 
tune of the day, rescued the wounded Ireton from the 
hands of the enemy, and routed the whole royal army 
with great slaughter. The star of Charles' fortune 
went down on that field of blood forever ! 

Ireton's conduct in war was, on all occasions, equal 
to his gallantry at Naseby fight. In the expedition 
against Ireland, Cromwell chose him his second in 



CHAPTER m. 129 

command, and at the close of the campaign left him 
in the government of that kingdom. Here Ireton dis- 
played his usual ability, both in the field and in the 
administration of the government. Even Hume is 
forced to admit his great capacity, and his " strict 
execU'ion of justice in that unlimited command which 
he pos-essed in Ireland." The same historian, while 
he sneers at what he calls the facility with which 
Ireton was able " to graft the soldier on the lawyer, 
the statesman on the saint," renders to his memory 
the somewhat equivocal tribute of saying that " it loas 
helieved by many that he was animated by a sincere 
and passionate love of liberty, and never could have 
been iaduced, by any motive to submit to the smallest 
appeaiance of regal government." Hume does not 
state whether he shared in this belief; but we 
think it evident that ho little appreciated or sympa- 
thized with that Roman integrity and virtue, that stern 
and indexible devotion to republican principle, which so 
elevato the character of Ireton in the eyes of mankind. 

The genius of Ireton, though it shone with resplen- 
dent lustre on the field, was far better adapted to the 
pursuits of the civilian, or the statesman, than to 
those of the soldier. Before Cromwell found him en- 
rolled as a " captain in Col. Thornhaugh's regiment," 
and Vr'hile yet a young man at the bar, he had pro- 
jected various legal and constitutional reforms, of an 
orisfinal and striking: character. But at the commence- 
ment of the civil wars, he laid aside the toga for the 



6^ 



130 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

cuirass ; and with the same readiness, he quitted the 
field for the floor of Parliament. 

The singular influence he possessed over Cromwell, 
has been noticed. =^ While Ireton lived, and shared 
the lord-general's counsels, the latter remained true 
and steadfast to the cause of the Commonwealth. 
Ireton was the connecting link which bound Cromwell 
to the republicans. It appears, however, that just be- 
fore his death, he began to suspect the ambitious 
designs of the lord-general. Mrs. Hutchinson states 
that Ireton had actually determined to return to Eng- 
land, in order to divert Cromwell from his destructive 
course. Who shall say what different phase might 
have been given to the great struggle for English 
liberty, had not death untimely ended the career of 
one of its noblest champions ! 

Ireton w^as elected to Parliament during the same 
year with Sidney. One cannot help imagining that 
kindred political sentiments served to cement a friend- 
ship between two young men of characters in many 
respects so similar. It is impossible to speak here of 
the many, and varied, and eminent services rendered 
by Ireton to the cause, during his legislative career. 
It may be mentioned, however, that he was one of the 
most determined and resolute of those who urged on 
the trial of the king ; a proceeding whose stern justice 

=^ Whitelocke says of him — " Cromwell had a great opinion of him, 
and no man could prevail so much or order him so far, as Ireton could. 
He was stout in the field, and wary and prudent in his counsel, and ex- 
ceedingly forward as to the business of a commonwealth." 



CHAPTER m. 131 

— whatever may be thought of its expediency — we 
have the less reason to doubt, from the very fact of its 
being advocated by one of a mind so pure, and a cha- 
racter so disinterested. With Marten, he was on the 
most important committees for effecting the necessary 
change in government. With Cromwell and Brad- 
shaw, he w^as on the judgment seat that sent his sove- 
reign to the block. Indeed, Bishop Burnet shields 
Cromwell, and throws upon Ireton the chief responsi- 
bility. " Ireton was the person," he says, " that drove 
it on ; for Cromwell was all the while in some sus- 
pense about it. Ireton had the principles and the 
temper of a Cassius ; he stuck at nothing that might 
have turned England to a Commonwealth." The 
same Roman virtue and resolution, who can doubt, 
would have stuck at nothing to have prevented that 
Commonwealth, once established, from being over- 
thrown, even though its betrayer had been the friend 
in whom Ireton had trusted. One instance of the dis- 
interested nature of Ireton's patriotism, is preserved 
by Ludlow, and may be here related. The Parlia- 
ment, after the battle of Worcester, voted pensions 
and estates to several who had made pecuniary sacri- 
fices in its cause, and among others, an estate of two 
thousand a year to Ireton. Alone, of all, he refused to 
take it, saying to the Parliament, in reply, that " they 
had many just debts which he desired they would 
pay, before they made any such presents." Soon after 
this he died suddenly in Ireland, of the plague, in the 
prime of life, aged about forty years. His death was 



132 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

a melancholy affliction to Cromwell, who both admired 
and loved him. His dead body, at the instance of the 
lord-general, was brought from Ireland, and laid, with 
magnificent funeral ceremonies, at the public charge, 
in Westminster Abbey, among the tombs of kings, 
there to remain, till the saturnalia of the Restoration, 
when his sepulchre was violated, and his bones hung 
up by the side of Cromwell and Bradshaw, upon a 
gibbet at Tyburn — the three malefactors, whose names 
were, of all others, most odious and detestable to the 
royalists. 

After the dissolution of the Long Parliament, Sid- 
ney remained in retirement at Penshurst. Like Yane 
and Marten, he refused to sanction the legality of 
Cromwell's government, by accepting any office. At 
the close of the war between Holland and England, in 
1654, he went over a second time to the Hague. 
Through Beverningk, the Dutch ambassador, whom 
he had known in London, he became acquainted with 
many of the celebrated men of that country, and 
among others, with that truly great and virtuous 
statesman, John De Witt. De Witt was, at that 
time, G-rand Pensionary of Holland. Though yet a 
young man, three years the junior of Sidney, he had 
acquired a reputation famous throughout Europe — a 
reputation which a subsequent brilliant career exalted, 
and which has become, deservedly, the most illustrious 
in the political annals of his country. He was the 
son of a burgomaster of Dort. From his father he 
inherited republican principles, and hostility to the 



CHAPTER in. 133 

House of Orange. On the death of the Prince of 
Orange, in 1650, De Witt, then just entering upon 
public life, firmly and successfully opposed the project 
of raising the infant son of the Prince of Orange to 
the stadtholdership. By his ability and eloquence, he 
maintained the influence of Holland in the Councils 
of the United Provinces, and secured to his country 
the blessings of free and popular institutions. 

Though he had zealously labored to avert the ca- 
lamity of a war with England, yet, when that war 
came on, he exhausted the resources of a mind singu- 
larly fertile in invention, to crown the arms of his 
country with triumph, and to bring the contest to a 
successful close. It is a fact worthy of remark, that 
the two ablest statesmen in Europe— Sir Harry Vane, 
in England, and John De Witt, in the United Pro- 
vinces — were at the head of the foreign departments 
of the two republics during this unnatural war. The 
contest was carried on upon the ocean ; but with De 
Witt in her cabinet, and Van Tromp and De Ruyter 
in command of her fleets, Holland was not yet des- 
tined to lose the trident of the seas. Through the 
influence of De Witt, whose abilities had raised him 
to the oflfice of Grrand Pensionary, the war, so ably 
conducted on the part of the States, v/as brought to a 
close. Holland returned to the peaceful pursuits of 
her commerce and industry ; her republican institu- 
tions seemed based upon the most enduring founda- 
tions ; she was preparing to inscribe in her" annals a 



134 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

glorious chapter, with which the name of this, her 
noblest son, was destined to be forever associated. 

It was at this period that Sidney first met De Witt. 
The intercourse of two such minds, is a fact worthy 
of note in the history of both. The speculative 
thoughts which the one meditated in his closet, were 
precisely the thoughts which the other was laboring 
practically to apply in his sphere of public duty. They 
were men who could appreciate and understand each 
other. Sidney's was a character which De Witt could 
not fail to admire and esteem ; to the English repub- 
lican, the Dutch minister doubtless appeared such as 
years afterwards Mr. Fox described him — " the wisest, 
the best, and most truly patriotic minister that ever 
appeared upon the stage." 

Such, indeed, was John De Witt — the melancholy 
catastrophe of whose death almost demonstrates the 
discouraging maxim that republics are ungrateful. 
For twentv years he served his country with a con- 
scientious rectitude, and an ardor of patriotism that 
has never been excelled. The profound genius of the 
man we can estimate only by the great deeds he 
achieved. During the second war with England, 
which he again labored unsuccessfully to avert, he 
was the soul of those stupendous exertions which per- 
vaded every branch of the Dutch marine. He crowded 
the harbors and whitened the seas with the fleets of 
the republic. Defeat itself seemed only to endow him 
with new energy, and develope in him new resources. 
The waves had scarcely closed over the shattered v" 



CHAPTER in. 135 

mains of one armament, ere another sprang up, as if 
by magic, to supply its place. Rupert and Monk had 
scarcely borne back to England the news of a triumph 
over the enemy, ere the startled citizens of London 
heard the thunder of De Ruyter's cannon from the 
Thames. His comprehensive mind took in at a glance, 
the broadest principles and the minutest details of 
government. His abilities made him master of every 
branch of the public service. When occasion required, 
he took command of the fleet in person, and by the 
novelty and value of his inventions,* and the improve- 
ments he introduced, in this new sphere of action, 
proved that his genius was not only original and pro- 
found, but universal. His magnanimity was dis- 
played in accepting the tuition of the young Prince of 
Orange, a trust which he executed with scrupulous 
fidelity and care. The wisdom and discernment of the 
prince, still a mere boy, was no less remarkable, in 
consenting to receive instructions from one who, 
though the first statesman of his country, he might 
regard, as in some sort, his hereditary enemy. It is 
not too much to say that the philosophical and en- 
lightened instructions of De Witt, and above all the 
example of his exalted virtues and patriotism, contri- 
buted much to the formation of the character of a 
king, to whose wisdom and ability England is so 
largely indebted for the liberty she this day enjoys. 

The fate of this wise and virtuous republican 
magistrate, has been truly characterized as one of the 
most completely discouraging examples which history 
* The invention of chain-shot is ascribed to De Witt. 



136 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

affords to the lovers of liberty. After more than 
twenty years of public service, he w^as driven from the 
station he had filled, by one of those sudden revulsions 
of public feeling which is engendered by despair, at 
a moment of fearful danger to his country, when the 
most powerful nations in Europe were leagued for her 
destruction, and when such services and such fidelity 
as his, were most needed. Visiting his brother pri- 
vately in prison, the popular wrath fell upon the 
head of the devoted minister. The furious mob 
dragged the illustrious victims from the place of their 
retreat, and literally tore them in pieces. Such was 
the inglorious martyrdom of De Witt ; a sacrifice to 
the insane fury of the populace, whom he had so long 
and so faithfully served — immolated by a blinded demo- 
cracy at the very shrine which his own hands had con- 
secrated to liberty. 

On his return from the Hague in 1654, Sidney 
again retired to Penshurst, and, except for an occa- 
sional excursion to London, or a visit to his relative, 
the Earl of Northumberland, at his seat in Sussex, he 
rarely left his retreat. He devoted much of his time 
to literary pursuits, and to those dignified and philoso- 
phical speculations upon history and political ethics, 
which were so congenial to his taste. An Essay on 
Love, found among his papers, is supposed to have 
been written during this period. His Commonplace 
Book, preserved in the library at Penshurst, is said to 
exhibit a copious store of materials collected from the 
political history of all civilized nations, illustrative of 



CHAPTER in. 137 

every branch of policy and government. It is thought 
that the materials for his great work, the Discourses 
on Government^ were, at this early period, collected 
and partially arranged, and that the imperfect papers 
produced at his trial, a part of the same design, were 
also written during his residence at Penshurst."^ 

Constant to the principles he had adopted, Sidney 
still refused to acknowledge the Protector's govern- 
ment. Though his friends Bradshaw and Scot did 
not hesitate to appear among the ranks of the opposi- 
tion in Cromwell's Parliament, he himself embraced 
other views of duty, and continued to regard an 
entire seclusion from public affairs as the course most 
consistent with his own sense of propriety. His 
eldest brother, Philip, Lord Lisle, adhered to the Pro- 
tector, and was one of his w^armest partisans. Lisle 
had been summoned by Cromwell as a member of the 
" Barebone Parliament," and so highly did he 
acquire the lord-general's confidence, that on the 
installation of the protectoral government, he was 
named the first upon the Council of State. He seems 
to have taken great umbrage at the contempt and dis- 
gust which Sidney manifested toward the Protector 
and his government. On one occasion Sidney, to 
relieve the dulness which reigned at Penshurst, and to 
amuse his lordship's household, managed to get up a 
lay, which, either by accident or design, reflected se- 
verely upon the Protector. The indignation of his 
brother could no longer be restrained. In a letter to the 

* Meadley's Memoirs, p. 57, 



138 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

Earl of Leicester, under date of June 17thj 1656, he 
thus expresses himself : — 

" In my poor opinion, the business of your lord- 
ship's house hath passed somewhat unluckily, and 
that it had been better used to do a seasonable cour- 
tesy to the Lord Protector, than to have had such a 
play acted in it, of public affront, which doth much 
entertain the town. I have been in some places 
w^here they told me they were exceedingly pleased 
with the gallant relation of the chief actor in it, and 
that by applauding him they put him several times 
upon it." 

The play is thought to have been Shakspeare's 
Julius Coesar, Sidney, — " the chief actor," — sustain- 
ing the part of Marcus Brutus. The dissatisfaction of 
his brother was increased by the suspicion that Alger- 
non was the favorite son of his father. The old earl, 
on all occasions, manifested towards him an affection 
and confidence which awakened the keen jealousy of 
the eldest son and heir. In the same letter, Lisle 
does not pretend to conceal his spleen and mortifica- 
tion, and even indulges in some very unworthy reflec- 
tions on his brother : — 

*' I have my constant sorrov/ to see that your lord- 
ship never omits an opportunity to reproach me ; and 
in earnest I think, laying all other matters aside, this, 
which hath appeared most eminently upon this occa- 
sion, is very extraordinary, that the youngest son 
should so domineer in the house, that not only in 
regard to this matter, which I have spoken of, but at 



CHAPTER III. 139 

all times, I am uncertain whether I can have the 
liberty to look into it or not ; for it seems it is not his 
chamber, but the great rooms of the house, and per- 
haps the whole, he commands, and upon this occasion, 
I may most properly say it, that his extremest vanity 
and IV ant of judgment are so known that there will 
be some wonder at it." 

Sidney was recalled from his retirement by the 
downfall of the protectoral government, and the sum- 
moning together on the 7th of May, 1659, of the 
members of that Parliament which Cromwell had 
dissolved. Here he met his old associates, Vane, Mar- 
ten, Scot, and the other chiefs of the republican party. 
Sidney co-operated with them in their first act, the 
passage of a resolution to secure the liberty and prop- 
erty of the people, and to administer the government 
without "a single person, kingship, or a House of 
Lords." The forms of the Commonwealth were once 
more revived ; the republic Vv^as for a brief season 
re-established ; the statesmen of the revolution were 
again at the helm. Sidney took his place in the Ex- 
ecutive Council of the government. He remained in 
it, however, but a brief period. AVithin a month after 
the Parliament assembled, he was called to a new 
sphere of duty, and to the performance of other and 
no less responsible services in behalf of the Common- 
wealth. He accepted the trust, and resigned his seat 
in the Council and House. His legislative career 
closed forever. 

It is unnecessary to trace the counter revolution 



140 ALGEENON SIDNEY, 

which overthrew the Commonwealth and brought in 
the king. That the Parliament was decrepid and 
powerless ; that it had outlived the public sentiment 
which had formerly sustained it ; that the people were 
wearied with these frequent changes in the govern- 
ment ; that a strong re-action had taken place in the 
public mind in favor of royalty, is evident from the 
events which so rapidly followed. The golden mo- 
ment had gone by when the Republic might have 
been established. The soul of the Commonwealth lay 
entombed in the grave of Cromwell. Monk marched 
his army from Scotland to the city of London. He 
found the republican party broken, discordant, and 
aimless. The noblest of them, in the front rank of 
whom stood Vane, made a stout resistance ; but re- 
sistance was idle. Monk, at the head of his army, 
acted the dictator, as Cromwell had done. He declared 
for a " free Parliament." Ail London, we are told, 
was wild with joy ; the streets blazed with bonfires ; 
the gutters ran with ale. The king was invited back 
*' to enjoy his own again," and raised without condi- 
tions to the throne. In a moment of enthusiastic 
loyalty and blind folly, the people of England sur- 
rendered, unreservedly, to Charles H., the liberties 
which the swords of the Puritans had wrung from the 
reluctant hands of his father. 



CHAPTEE IV. 

Appointed on the embassy to Denmark and Sweden — Importance and 
nature of the mission — Arrives at Copenhagen — Goes to Stockholm — 
His conduct in the discharge of his duties as ambassador — Embarrass- 
ment of Sidney at the Restoration — Letters respecting it to his father 
— Progress and close of his negotiations — Prepares to return from 
Sweden — Letters to his father — His equivocal position with the gov- 
ernment at home — Letters to his father respecting it — Returns to 
Copenhagen — Goes to Hamburgh — Letter of Lord Leicester — Dis- 
couraging prospects of Sidney — He abandons the idea of returning to 
England, and refuses to submit to the terms required of him at home 
— Letter of Sidney from Hamburgh — Letter from Augsburgh — He 
acknowledges and justifies the offences charged against him — His 
views of the act of indemnity — Cause of the hostility of the govern- 
ment against Sidney — Letter of Sidney in respect to it — He submits 
to voluntary exile — Conduct of the government in the execution of 
the regicides — Scrope, Sir Arthur Hazelrig, and Lambert — Partial 
statements of Hume respecting the execution of the regicides — Re- 
flections on the trial and execution of General Harrison — Reasons 
of Sidney's refusal to return to England — His letter to his father on 
that subject — His views of the government at home and his relation to it 
— Letter to a friend. 

Having accepted the mission conferred on him. by 
Parliament, Sidney at once entered on the discharge 



142 AI.GEENON SIDNEY. 

of its duties. In conjunction with Whitelocke and 
Sir Robert Honeywood, who were appointed to act 
with him, he was charged to mediate a peace between 
the kings of Denmark and Sweden. Whitelocke was 
unwilling to undertake the service, by reason, as he 
alleged, of his old age and infirmities, but really, as 
it seems, out of jealousy. He had been sent by Crom- 
well sole ambassador to the Q,ueen of Sweden, and he 
could not brook the thought of acting a subordinate 
part at the same court. " I well knew," he observes 
in his Memoirs, " the overruling temjper and height 
of Col. Sidney. '^^ Whitelocke thereupon declined the 
appointment, and Thomas Boone, a merchant of Lon- 
don, was named one of the commissioners in his stead. 
It appears manifest, however, that Sidney had the 
chief control of the negotiations, and that he derived 
very little aid from the counsels of his associates. 

This mission was one of much importance to both 
England and Holland, as a peace between their allies, 
Denmark and Sweden, would secure to both nations 
the free navigation of the Sound. Accordingly the 
States General united with England in the appoint- 
ment of plenipotentiaries to negotiate a peace. The 
English commissioners set out early in July, 1659, 
and arrived at Elsineur on the 21st of the same month. 
Admiral Montagu, afterwards Earl of Sandwich, was 
then in command of the English fleet lying in the 
Sound. The officers of the several ships, who had 
been apprised of the change of government, had sent 
in their adhesion to the Commonwealth ; but Mon- 



CHAPTEE IV. 143 

tagu was secretly attached to the interests of Charles 
11.5 and was even then preparing to return to Eng- 
land with his whole fleet, to favor the royal cause. 
He had an interview at Elsineur with Sidney, who 
soon fathomed his intentions, and immediately ap- 
prised the Parliament. Six additional frigates were 
ordered to be equipped, under the command of Lawson, 
to prevent the attempt, and to oppose any invasion by 
the cavaliers from Flanders. But, as it proved, it was 
not from this point that the real danger to the repub- 
lic was to arise. It lay less obvious and nearer home. 
Traitorous friends, and not foreign enemies, were to 
destroy the fabric which the statesmen of the Com- 
monwealth had reared, and lay the liberties of Eng- 
land once more at the footstool of her kings. 

In the prompt execution of this mission, Sidney 
repaired from Copenhagen to Stockholm. He was 
eminently successful. In this new field — the field of ■ 
diplomacy — his fertile genius appeared as well adapt- 
ed to advance the honor of his country, as it had 
Droved to be in the senate and on the field. Having 
completed the negotiations, as he subsequently with 
truth expressed it, " to the advantage of all Europe, 
and the honor of this nation," he was ready to return 
to his own country, according to the permission given 
him and his colleague by the council of state ; but, in 
the mean time, the restoration of the king had been 
effected, and Sidney, not knowing what construction 
would be put upon his conduct by the restored govern- 
ment, wisely concluded for the present to remain be- 



144 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

yond seas. Some of his letters to his father, about 
this period, have been preserved, and strikingly exhibit 
the steadiness of his temper, and his high-toned sense 
of duty and honor. In one of these, written before 
the news of the restoration of the king had reached 
him, though in view of that event which was then 
pretty certain to take place, he says : " If I do not re- 
ceive new orders, I shall return speedily home, and shall 
then follow that way which your lordship shall com- 
mand and my best friends advise, as far as I can, without 
breaking the rules of honor or conscience^ which I 
am sure will never be expected from me by your lord- 
ship, nor those whose opinions I consider. Whilst I am 
here I serve England, and will, with as much care and 
diligence as I can, endeavor to advance its interests, 
and follow the orders of those that govern it. I re- 
serve the determination of other points to counsels 
upon the peace." 

In another letter, dated at Stockholm, June 16th, 
1660, as appears after the object of his mission had 
been accomplished, referring to the restoration of the 
monarchy he says : — 

" We could not think it at all reasonable to leave 
the work in which we were employed, when we saw a 
certainty of accomplishing it within a short time, 
unless we had received a positive command. ^ * 
* ^ * I am here alone. My colleague 
intended to make the same journey, but the gout con- 
fined him to his bed. I look upon all the powers 
granted unto us as extinguished by the coming in of 



CHAPTEK IV. 145 

the king, and do not take upon me to do anything, as 
a public minister, except it be giving notice unto the 
crowns of Sweden and Denmark, of the restitution of 
the ancient government of England, and the proclaim- 
ing of the king. Upon this occasion T accept of a 
public audience which is here offered unto me ; I 
should have avoided it upon all other cccasions." 

The progress of this negotiation is accurately de- 
tailed by Sidney in his several letters to his father. 
At first it was attended with many difRculties and 
delays, and the Council of State even gave the Com- 
missioners leave to return home, if they thought 
proper, before it was accomplished. This, however, 
they did not do, but dispatched one of their number, 
Mr. Boone, to England, during the year. Sidney 
writes, that he himself desired that place, but that 
" the princes with whom we are to treat, and our 
fellow-mediating ministers did not consent." 

In a letter under date of the 23d of Jane, 1660, he 
congratulates his father upon his having resumed his 
former place in the House of Peers. The object of 
his mission had then been ac^diBplished, and regard- 
ing his powers as extinct, he was preparing to retire 
from Sweden. In relation to the peace he had just 
concluded, and his reception at the court of Sweden, 
he remarks : — 

" The conclusion of what has been managed by my 

colleagues and me, must be left to such person as the 

king shall please to employ in it. God be thanked, he 

will find little difficulty ; if he can but write his 

7 



146 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

name, he will be able enough for anything that 
remains to be done. 1 have been received here as I 
desired ; if I would have had more ceremony, the 
State would have allowed it to me ; but esteeming 
my powers extinct by the king's restitution, I did 
avoid all things of that kind that could be decently 
omitted. I find this crown exceedingly well satisfied 
with the peace that is made, and resolved to perform 
exactly and handsomely, all that was agreed." 

In respect to his own equivocal relations with the 
English government, he adds : — 

" I am uncertain how my actions or person will be 
looked upon at home. I hope I shall be able to give 
a good account of all that I have done here, and for 
other things I must take my fortune with the rest 
of my companions. The Council, in their last letter 
to my colleague and me, said, that for the future, we 
must expect orders from the king, unless we did 
resolve to return home according to the liberty for- 
merly granted us. We embraced that concession, and 
the peace being made for which we were sent, resolve 
to return, unless lue have some commands from his 
Majesty. If we receive any such, they shall be 
obeyed; nothing else shall, by our consent, retard our 
return." 

But Sidney waited in vain for any commands from 
his majesty, or, indeed, any recognition of his charac- 
ter as a public minister. He had been too deeply 
engaged in the revolution, was too prominent and 
marked an object, to receive anything but enmity 



CHAPTER IV. 147 

and persecution at the hands of the government of 
Charles 11. It is true he came within the general 
act of amnesty, afterwards passed, which excepted 
alone the " regicides," as they were called, and a few 
others ; but he lay, for years after, under the ban of 
the government, and his return into England, if not 
absolutely prohibited, it was more than intimated, 
would be a matter of personal peril and danger. To 
a mind like Sidney's, expatriation and banishment 
appeared the heaviest misfortunes that could befal 
him. He loved his country with a sincere and ardent 
affection. Even in her fall it was his country still, 
and he longed to return once more to her shores. It 
is not remarkable, therefore, that we find some of his 
letters, about this period, expressing much solicitude 
as to his return, and the probability that he might 
find sufficient favor with the government to suffer 
him, at least, to place his foot once more upon the 
soil of England. In one of his letters from Stock- 
holm, he says : — 

'' I do not at all know in what condition I am 
there, (in England,) not what effect I shall findof Gren- 
eral Monk's expression of kindness toward me, and 
his remembrance of the ancient friendship that was 
between us ; but the Lord Fleetwood's letters to the 
Senate, and private persons here, mention discourses 
that he makes much to my advantage." 

June 27th, 1660, a day or two before leaving Swe- 
den, he writes : — 

" Tho news I have from England is punctual and 



148 ALGERNON SmNEY. 

certain enough ; but my friends are so short in what 
relates particularly unto myself that I can make no 
judgment at all upon what they say. Perhaps the 
truth is, they can say nothing to my advantage and 
leave me to guess at the rest by public things." 

In the same letter he speaks of a report that his 
father is to be sent governor into Ireland, adding, that 
if the report be true, " I should not be content to stay 
here, believing that if I am capable of doing service 
in any place in the world it is there, where I have 
some knowledge of persons, places, and business , 
but hoiv likely my service is to be accepted I cannot 
at all Judge. ^^ 

From Copenhagen, on the 14th of July, he again 
wrote to his father a long letter, filled mainly with 
matters relating to his public business, which was 
now closed. The conviction he before expressed that 
he did not feel at all assured that new orders would 
be sent to him, was now rendered a certainty, and he 
was preparing to leave Denmark, as he had left Swe- 
den, where, his public mission being closed, he did 
not choose to reside as a private person. His course 
was directed to Hamburgh and Holland. Previous to 
leaving Copenhagen, he wrote once more to the Earl 
of Leicester a brief letter, expressing some impatience 
that he had not received any directions in respect to 
his future course. " I do not yet very well know in 
what place I shall stay until I hear further from Eng- 
land. I did hope that upon such occasions as those 
that have of late befallen me, your lordship would 



CHAPTER IV. 149 

have been pleased to have sent me some commands 
and advices how to dispose of myself, more particu- 
larly than by such an one as I had sent over with 
letters." 

His father's answer at length came — a cold and 
unwelcome answer — confirming the resolution he had 
already formed, not to return to England. The old 
earl in his letter is somewhat querulous and pettish. 
He excuses his neglect as a correspondent, by saying, 
" Disuse in writing hath made it weary to me. Age 
makes it hard, and the weakness of sight and hand 
makes it almost impossible." He then chides his son 
for his neglect : — " After you had left me sick, solitary, 
and sad at Penshurst, and that you had resolved to 
undertake the employment, wherein you have lately 
been, you neither came to give a farewell, nor did so 
much as send one to me, but only writ a wrangling 
letter or two about money," &o. 

The sum of the letter seems to be, that his lord- 
ship thinks it unfit, and, perhaps as yet, unsafe for 
his son to come into England. The reason he assigns 
is, that he had heard Sidney was likely to be ex- 
cepted out of the act of pardon and oblivion ; he 
knew not, he says, what his son had done or said, but 
he has in several ways heard that there is as ill an 
opinion of him as of any, even of those that condemn- 
ed the late king. He had spoken, he further says, in 
his behalf, to the General, (Monk,) who was then, of 
course, high in favor with the king, and had " intend- 
ed to speak with somebody else, you may guess whom 



150 ALGEEXON SIDXEY. 

I mean," — this probably refers to the king himself — 
'• but since that, I have heard such things of you, that 
in the doubtfulness only of their being true, no man 
will open his mouth for you." These reports which 
had thus reached the Earl of Leicester's ears, and 
were whispered in the court of Charles 11. , were 
some of them true. They were, no doubt, one of the 
causes of the inveterate enmity so long cherished 
against Sidney by that monarch. Highlyprejudicial to 
his character in that court, to us they appear nothing 
more than the free and bold thoughts of a mind which 
the deeply cherished principles of liberty. We shall 
give these reports, which so shocked the old earl, in 
his own quaint language. 

" It is said that the University of Copenhagen 
brought their album unto you, desiring you to write 
something therein, and that you did scribere in alho 
these words : — 

Manus haec inimica tyrannis 

Ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem.* 

It is also said that a minister who hath married a 
lady Laurence, here at Chelsea, but now dwelling at 
Copenhagen, being there in company with you, said — 
' I think you were none of the late king's judges, nor 

* In Lord Molesworth's preface to his account of Denmark, it is said 
that these words were written by Sidney in the book of mottoes in the 
king's library, according to the liberty allowed to all noble strangers, 
and that the French ambassador had the assurance to tear out the leaf 
containing the passage, considering it a libel on the French government 
and also upon that of Denmark, the establishing of which France was 
then favoring. 



CHAPTER IV. 151 

guilty of his death,' meaning our king ; ' Guilty,' 
said you, ' do you call that guilt ? why it teas the 
justest and bravest action that ever was done in Eng- 
land or anywhere else,^ with other words to the same 
effect. It is said also that you having heard of a 
design to seize upon you, or cause you to be taken 
prisoner, you took notice of it to the King of Den- 
mark himself, and said — ' I hear there is a design to 
seize upon me ; but who is it that hath that design ? 
Est ce notre bandit ?' by which you were understood 
to mean the king. Besides this, it is reported that 
you have been heard to say many scornful and con- 
temptuous things of the king's person and family, 
which, unless you can justify yourself, will hardly be 
forgiven or forgotten, for such personal offences 
make deeper impressions than public actions either of 
war or of treaty." 

The earl was undoubtedly right. Such offences as 
these were neither to be forgotten nor forgiven. They 
exhibited the high spirit and lofty independence of 
character of Algernon Sidney too plainly for him to 
expect either favor or clemency from the vengeful 
government of Charles II. and Clarendon. It was 
penitence for the past, a time-serving sycophancy, a 
total, abject submission, a complete sacrifice of opin- 
ions and independence, that was demanded as the 
condition of pardon. The proud and lofty mind of 
Sidney could not bend to this imperious demand ; 
he refused to submit to the humiliation, and scorned 
the infamous condition of royal clemency. Oa thei 



152 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

very day his father was penning the letter, from which 
the foregoing extracts are made, Sidney wrote to him 
from Hamburgh, assuring him that he had abandoned, 
for the present, all thoughts of returning home. His 
proud and unbending spirit seems to breathe through 
every sentence he pens. There is an earnest sincerity, 
a high-toned and manly sentiment, a deep, and stern, 
and resolute determination, pervading the language 
in which he contemptuously spurns the condition of 
pardon offered him, and which elevate even our high- 
est conceptions of his character. 

" I know myself to be in a condition that for all 
circumstances, is as ill as outward things can 
make it : this is my only consolation, that when I call 
to remembrance, as exactly as I can, all my actions 
relating to our civil distempers, I cannot find one that 
I can look upon as a breach of the rules of justice and 
honor. This is my strength, and I thank G-od by this 
I enjoy very serene thoughts. If I lose this, hy vile 
and unworthy submissions^ acknoivledgment of errors, 
asking pardon, or the like, I shall, from that moment, 
be the miserablest man alive, and the scorn of all men. 
I know the titles that are given me of fierce, violent, 
seditious, mutinous, turbulent, and many others of 
the like nature ; but Grod that gives me inward peace 
in my outward troubles, doth know that I do in my 
heart choose an innocent, quiet retirement, before any 
place unto which I could hope to raise myself by 
those actions which they condemn, and did never put 
myself upon any of them, but when I could not enjoy 



CHAPTER IV. 153 

the one, or thought the other my duty. If I could 
write and talk like Col. Hutchinson, or Sir G-ilbert 
Pickering, I believe I might be quiet ; contempt 
might procure my safety ; hut Iliad rather he a vaga- 
hond all my life than huy my own country at so dear 
a rate. ^ ^ ^ ^ if, 

It will be thought a strange extravagance for one that 
esteemed it no dishonor to make himself equal unto a 
great many mean people^ and helow some of them ^ to 
make war upon the king,) and is ashamed to submit 
unto the king, now he is encompassed with all the 
nobles of the land, and in the height of his glory, so 
that none are so happy as those that can first cast 
themselves at his feet. I have enough to answer all 
this in my own mind ; I cannot help it if I judge 
amiss. I did not make myself, nor can I help the 
defects of my own creation. I walk in the light G-od 
hath given me ; if it be dim or uncertain, I must bear 
the penalty of my errors. I hope to do it with 
patience, and that no burden shall be very grievous to 
me except sin and shame. G-od keep me from those 
evils, and in all things else dispose of me according to 
his pleasure." 

In respect to the offences charged against him by 
the earl, Sidney subsequently writing from Augs- 
burgh, explains : — 

" That which I am reported to have written in the 
book at Copenhagen, is true ; and having never heard 
that any sort of men were so worthy the objects of 

7=^ 



154 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

enmity as those I mentioned, I did never in the leasts 
scruple avowiyig myself to be an enemy unto tliemP 

As to his reported remark to the minister in relation 
to the execution of the king :— 

" I do not know that he ever asked me any such 
question. If he had, I should have given him such 
an answer as his folly and iil~manners would have 
deserved ; but that which is reported is not in my 
style ; I never said it. Yet, that your lordship 
may not think I say this in compliance with the time, 
I do avow, that since I came into Denmark I have 
many times so justified that act, as people did be- 
lieve I had a hand in it ; and never did disavow it^ 
unless it were to the king of Sweden and Grrand 
Maitre of Denmark, who asked me privately." 

In this letter Sidney mentions his having seen the 
act of indemnity. He expected, he said, to have been 
excepted by this act from pardon, especially when he 
heard how Yane and Hazelrig were dealt v/ith. He 
hoped as little favor from the king as any man in 
England. But although, he remarks, there was not 
a clause in the act of indemnity which could trouble 
him, he did not value its protection a straw. 

That Sidney thoroughly understood the cause of 
the animosity of the king and court against him, and 
knew precisely upon what terms of abject and unqual- 
ified submission his pardon might be obtained, is evi- 
dent from his next letter dated at Augsburgh, on the 
26th of September. In it he says : — 

" The cause and root of all the bitterness against 



CHAPTER III. 155 

me, is from my stiff adherence to the party they 
hate. I do not wonder at it ; the reason is suffi- 
cient, but that which the king cannot avow with- 
out contradicting the very grounds upon which he 
doth promise to govern." • 

But the same letter discloses more fully than ever, 
his iron will, and his unconquerable resolution. He 
is determined never to sacrifice a principle, never to 
renounce an opinion, never, in short, to yield up his 
independence of thought, to confess his past life a 
falsehood, or, with a pusillanimous spirit, seek for 
pardon at the foot of a throne he scorns and despises. 
He does believe, he says, that his peace may be made, 
but not by the means proposed. 

*' The king doth not give any testimony of desiring 
to destroy all that were against him, but he will have 
all to submit, to recant, to renounce, and ask pardon. 
I find this and other things are expected from me. 1 
can do the first, cheerfully and willingly, as he is 
acknowledged by the Parliament ; nothing of the 
others.'''' 

And thus Sidney submitted to exile. " These 
reasons," he says, "have persuaded me to content 
myself with a temporary exile as the least evil 
that is within my power of choosing." And never 
did Algernon Sidney prove recreant to the rule 
he laid down in this spirited and noble letter. Years 
after, though he submitted to the ruling powers, and 
returned to his native country, as he at this time de- 
clared himself willing to do, yet he did not recant, 



156 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

renounce^ or ask the pardon^ that was expected of 
him. To the last, he maintained that stern self- 
reliance, and independence of character, which never 
suffered him" to sacrifice a principle to an expediency, 
and which led him to prefer a life of exile in a foreign 
land, to one of dishonor and humiliation in his own 
country. 

In his apology, he says, he could not for some time 
comprehend why he was treated with such asperity 
and harshness when others who had been his compan- 
ions and had given more just cause of hatred against 
them than he had done, were received into favor or 
suffered to live quietly, but that at length a person 
who well understood the temper of the court, explained 
the mystery by letting him know that ''^ he ivas dia- 
tinguished from the rest, because it was known that 
he could not be corrupted.''^ 

The conduct of the king's government at the resto- 
ration in the trial of the regicides and others, has 
already been alluded to in the sketches of Sidney's 
ootemporaries and is of itself sufficient to show that 
it was not so much the punishment of past offences 
which was aimed at, as of present political opinions. 
Some of these trials are among the most disgraceful 
proceedings to be found in the annals of English crim- 
inal jurisprudence. A.mong these, the execution of 
Scrope, one of the king's judges, and of Sir Henry 
Yane, have a precedence of infamy, because of their 
being in direct violation of the solemn pledge of the 
government. Scrope had come in upon the king's 



CHAPTER TV. 157 

proclamation of pardon to such of the regicides as 
should surrender themselves within fourteen days. 
In the very face of this solemn guaranty, he was tried, 
condemned and executed, because, in private conver- 
sation he had not acknowledged that he was con- 
vinced of his guilt in condemning the king. The 
case of Yane was, if possible, still more infamously 
unjust. With Lambert and Sir Arthur Hazelrigge, 
he had been excepted out of the act of pardon, but 
only on the solemn pledge of the king to the House of 
Commons that his life should be spared. This pledge 
with Lambert and Hazelrigge was kept. They were 
both penitent and entirely submissive. Hazelrigge, 
in particular, before the king's return, had bargained 
with Greneral Monk, for his life and estate, by surren- 
dering his command. The lives of these two were 
therefore spared, and they were condemned to impris- 
onment. But Yane stood fast to his principles, and 
with indomitable courage and firmness, defended him- 
self on his trial. It was the pleasure of the king and 
his chancellor that Yane should die, notwithstanding 
the royal word had passed to the contrary ; and to the 
disgrace of the nation he was condemned by an Eng- 
lish court, on the verdict of an English jury, and 
died on the scaffold. His devotion to the " old cause," 
his opinions and principles, not his offences, consti- 
tuted the crime for which he was condemned. 

Mr. Hume has glossed over this part of Charles's 
administration, and with an evident bias in favor of 
the crown, which even his air of dignified impartiality 



158 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

cannot conceal, would make these executions appeal 
to be the just and merited punishment of past treason, 
and even from their small number^ distinguished not 
only for their justice, but for what he calls an " unex- 
ampled lenity." He mentions the names of the six of 
the king's judges thus dealt with — Harrison, Scot, 
Carew, Clement, Jones, and Scrope ; the rest he says, 
" by an unexampled lenity were repriejved , and they were 
dispersed into several prisons." Of these judges, nine- 
teen had surrendered themselves on the king's procla- 
mation, relying on the promised pardon ; the remainder, 
including all who were executed, except Scrope, had 
been captured in their flight. It is true, Hume does 
not undertake to justify the executions of Scrope and 
Yane ; neither on the other hand, does he condemn 
them. As for the rest, including the enthusiast, Hugh 
Peters, and Coke the lawyer, who appeared for the peo- 
ple on the king's trial, we are given to understand 
their deaths were the deserved reward of past crimes. 
Such historical opinions, under the sanction of Hume's 
authority, have long passed current in our country as 
well as in England ; but the time has come when they 
ought at least to be doubted, if not repudiated. The 
same argument would justify the execution of every 
man who had sided with the Parliament during the 
civil war. The head of Monk should have rolled from 
the scaffold, and the infamous Ashley Cooper should 
have incurred the still more severe sentence which the 
common law pronounced in cases of high treason. 
A.ccording to the same argument, it was through th 



CHAPTER IV. 159 

magnanimity and mercy, noi; the justice of the king, 
that Milton was spared, and a grateful posterity is 
indebted alone to the " unexampled lenity" of Charles 
Stuart for the Paradise Lost. If the theory be true, 
that these executions were not a bloody vengeance, in- 
flicted for present opinions as well as past offences, 
but just, and discriminating, and necessary punish- 
ments, why should Lambert and Hazelrigge have re- 
ceived more favor than Yane, or why should the case 
of Marten have been made to differ from those of Har- 
rison and Scot ? Lambert was no less guilty than 
Vane, but he was penitent, and his life was spared ; 
while Vane faced his judges with intrepidity, boldly 
justified his conduct, recanted no opinion of his life, 
and was sent to the block. Marten upon his trial, as 
we have seen, did not exhibit the same bold and daunt- 
less front, and though equally guilty, his punishment 
was commuted to imprisonment. Harrison* and Scot 

* Hume sneers at the conduct of Harrison upon his trial, and asks — 
'' Can any one without concern for human blindness and ignorance, con- 
sider the demeanor of General Harrison who was first brought to his 
trial?" 

For one, we doubt if any can arise from perusing Mr. Hume's own 
account of his demeanor on the occasion referred to, with other senti- 
ments than respect for Harrison's sincerity and admiration of his forti- 
tude and intrepidity. The account is as follows : 

" With great courage and elevation of sentiment, he told the court 
that the pretended crime of which he stood accused, was not a deed per- 
formed in a corner ; the sound of it had gone forth to most nations ; and 
in the singular and marvellous account of it had chiefly appeared the 
sovereign power of Heaven ; that he himself, agitated by doubts, had 
often, with passionate tears,, offered up his addresses to the Divine Ma- 
jesty, and earnestly sought for light and conviction : he had still received 



160 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

did not flinch from their principles, or quail before their 
judges. They neither asked nor expected, perhaps did 
not desire mercy, and Harrison and Scot were con- 
demned to die. 

This digression will serve to show more clearly the 
position of Sidney with respect to the restored govern- 
ment, and the secret of the vindictive persecution 
which subsequently pursued him. It will be remem- 
bered that he was not one of the king's judges, or in 
any way connected with his death. He was not 

assurances of a heavenly sanction, and returned from those devout sup- 
plications with more serene tranquillity and satisfaction ; that all the 
nations of the earth were, in the eyes of their Creator, less than a drop 
of water in the bucket, nor were their erroneous judgments aught 
but darkness, compared with divine illuminations ; that these frequent 
illapses of the Divine Spirit he could not suspect to be interested illu- 
sions, since he was conscious that for no temporal advantage would he 
oifer injury to the poorest man or woman that trod upon the earth; 
that all the allurements of ambition, all the terrors of imprisonment, 
had not been able, during the usurpation of Cromwell, to shake his 
steady resolution, or bend him to a compliance with that deceitful tyrant, 
and when invited by him to sit on the right hand of the throne, when 
offered riches, and splendor, and dominion, he had disdainfully rejected 
all temptations ; and neglecting the tears of his friends and family, had 
still, through every danger, held fast his principles and his integrity." 

Harrison was, doubtless, not only a fanatic, but the wildest of vision- 
aries in his views of government ; yet, no more earnest or sincere man 
lived in those times. He opposed the usurpation of Cromwell, but he 
did not share the enlightened opinions of Vane and Sidney. He was one 
of those zealots who expected the coming of the fifth monarchy, the 
reign of the saints upon earth. In the novel of Woodstock, Sir Walter 
Scott, with inimitable skill, laying hold of these striking traits in the 
character of this distinguished soldier, has produced a picture, which, 
though exaggerated, and too highly colored, is yet, like all the creations 
of his master hand, easily mistaken for the original. 



CHAFrEE IV. 161 

excepted by name out of the general act of pardon, and 
therefore did not come literally within the law, and 
was not justly liable to any prosecution for his past 
conduct. Yet his father and his friends advised him, 
and doubtless with truth, that his return to England 
would be perilous. The act of amnesty, under a 
capricious and tyrannical government, so easily 
violated in other cases, would have been no protection 
unless at such a sacrifice of principle and indepen- 
dence as they w^ell knew a spirit like Sidney's could 
never brook. So too he himself viewed it, as will be 
seen by the following extract from a letter to his 
father, written from Rome on the 19th of November, 
1660. 

" I think the counsel given me by all my friends to 
keep out of England for a while, doth too clearly 
appear to have been good by the usage which my 
companions have already received, and perhaps will 
be yet further verified by what they will find, Noth- 
ing doth seem more certain to me than that I must 
either have procured my safety hy such means as Sir 
Arthur Hazelrigf^e is said to have used^ or run the 
fortune of some others who have showed themselves 
more resolute. I hope my being here will, in a short 
time, show that the place was not ill-chosen, and that 
besides the liberty and quiet which is generally grant- 
ed to all persons here, I may be admitted into that 
company the knowledge of which, will very much 
recompense my journey. I was extremely unwilling 
to stay in Hamburgh, or any place in G-ermany, find- 



162 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

ing myself too apt to fall into too deep melancholy if 
I have neither business nor company to divert me, 
and I have such an aversion to the conversation and 
entertainments of that country, that if T stayed in it, 
I must have lived as a hermit, though in a populous 
city. I am here, well enough at ease, and believe I 
may continue so ; unless somebody from the court of 
England doth think it worth their pains to disturb 
me, I see nothing likely to arise here to trouble me." 

Such, then, was the position of Sidney ; a wan- 
derer and an exile, though not in terms proscribed by 
the law. The fate of his associates, under the fraud- 
ulent promises of the government, admonished him of 
what would probably be his own, if he once placed 
himself within the power of his enemies. His past 
conduct he knew was less reprehensible than that of 
many who had risen to favor at home, but his present 
opinions he also knew were such as would find no 
favor there. He had been no less guilty than Sir 
Henry Yane, if such actions as his could be called 
guilt. He sympathized fully in the devoted and 
noble principles of that great republican statesman, 
with whom he had been on terms of intimate friend- 
ship. He had all his moral courage, and fortitude, 
and firmness of purpose. This was well known at 
the court of Charles, and, besides, it was known that 
Col. Sidney w^as a man who could not he corrupted. 
His colleague. Sir Hobert Honey wood, had returned 
from Denmark to England, and the king had been gra- 
ciously pleased to admit him into his presence. Some 



CHAPTER IV. 163 

friends of Sidney argued well for him, from this 
reception of his colleague, and even pressed him to 
return ; intimating a prospect of his being employed 
in the service of the government. The answer of 
Sidney is strikingly characteristic of his lofty and 
independent spirit ; such an answer as is worthy the 
pen of the man who, in his character and actions, 
strove to emulate the stern virtues and heroic con- 
stancy of Brutus. It gives a correct view of the sen- 
timents he then entertained toward the government of 
England, and is otherwise of peculiar interest as open- 
ing to us a clearer and broader insight into his char- 
acter : — 

" Sir — I am sorry I cannot, in all things, conform myself to the 
advices of my friends. Tf theirs had any joint concernment with 
mine, I should willingly submit my interest to theirs ; but when I 
alone am interested, and they only advice me to come over as soon 
as the act of indemnity is passed, because they think it is best for 
me, 1 cannot wholly lay aside my own judgment and choice. I 
confess we are naturally inclined to delight in our own country, 
and I have a particular love to mine. I hope I have given some 
testimony of it, I think that being exiled from it is a great evil, 
and would redeem myself from it with the loss of a great deal of 
my blood. But when that country of mine, which used to be es- 
teemed a paradise, is now like to be made a stage of injury ; the 
liberty which we hoped to establish oppressed; luxury and lewd- 
ness set up in its height instead of piety, virtue, sobriety and mo- 
desty, which we hoped God, by our hands, would have introduced ; 
the best men of our nation made a prey to the worst; the Parlia- 
ment, court, and the army corrupted ; the people enslaved ; all 
things vendible ; no man safe but by such evil and infamous 
means as flattery and bribery ; what joy can I have in mij own 
country in this condition ? Is it u pleasure to see that all 1 love in 



164 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

« 

the world is sold and destroyed ? Shall I renounce all my (>ld 
principles, learn the vile court arts, and make my peace by bribing 
some of them ? Shall their corruption and vice be my safety 1 
Ah ! no ; better is a life among strangers than in my own country 
upon such conditions. Whilst I live T will endeavor to preserve 
my liberty, or at least not to consent to the destroying of it. 1 hope 
1 shall die in the same principles in which I have lived, arid will live 
no longer than they con preserve me. i have in my life been 
guilty of many follies, but, as I think, of no meanness. I will 
not blot and defile tha' which is past, by endeavoring to provide for 
the future. I have ever had in my mind^ that when God should 
cast me into such a condition as that I cannot save my life, but by 
doing an indecent thing, he shoivs me the time is come when I should 
resign it. When I cannot live in my own country, but by such 
means as are worse thai, dying in it, 1 think he shows me I ought 
to keep myself out of it. Let them please themselves with mak- 
ing the king glorious, who think a whole people may justly be 
sacrificed for the interest and pleasure of one man and a few of his 
followers; let them rejoice in their subtlety, who, by betraying the 
former powers, have gained the favor of this, and not only pre- 
served, but advanced themselves in these dangerous changes.* 
Nevertheless, perhaps, they may find the king's glory is their 
shame, his plenty the people's misery, and that the gaining of an 
office, or a little money, is a poor rew^ard for destroying a nation, / 
which, if it were preserved in liberty and virtue, would truly be the 
most glorious in the world ; and that others may find they have with 
much pains purchased their own shame and misery, a dear price 
paid for that which is not worth keeping, nor the life that is ac- 
companied with it. The honor of English parliaments has ever 
been in making the nation glorious and happy, not in selling and 
destroying the interests of it to gratify the lusts of one man. 
*' Miserable nation ! that from so great a height of glory is 

* Eeference is here undoubtedly made to Ashley Cooper, now Earl of 
Shaftesbury, and other commonwealth's men, who, like him. were high 
in favor with the king. Perhaps, also, he means his old friend. General 
Monk, then Duke of Albemarle. 



CnAPTER lY. 165 

fallen into the most despicable condition in the world, of having 
all its good depending upon the breadth and will of the vilest per- 
sons in it! Cheated and sold by them they trusted ! infamous 
traffic, equal almost in guilt to that of Judas! In all preceding 
ages Parliaments have been the palaces of our liberty, the sure 
defenders of the oppressed; they who formerly could bridle kings 
and keep the balance equal between them and the people, are now 
become instruments of all our oppressions, and a sword in his hand 
to destroy us, they themselves, led by a few interested persons 
who are willing to buy offices for themselves by the misery of the 
whole nation, and the blood of the most worthy and eminent per- 
sons in it. Detestable bribes, worse than the oaths now in 
fashion in this mercenary court ! I mean to owe neither my life 
nor liberty to any such means. When the innocence of my 
life and actions will not protect me, I will stay away until the 
storm be passed over. In short where Vane^ Lambert, Hazelrigge 
cannot live in safety, I cannot live at all. If I had been in England, 
I should have expected a lodgment with them ; or though they 
may he the first^ as being more eminent than I, I must expect to fol- 
low their example in suffering, as I have been their companion in 
acting. I am most in amaze at the mistaken informations that 
were sent to me by my friends, full of expectations of favors and 
employments. Who can think that they who imprison them would 
employ me, or suffer me to live when they are put to death? 
If I might live and be employed, can it be expected that I should 
serve a government that seeks such detestable ways of establish- 
ing itself 1 Ah ! no ; I have not learnt to make my own peace 
by persecuting and betraying my brethren more eminent and wor- 
thy than myself. I must live by just means, and serve to just 
ends, or not at all. After such a manifestation of the ways by 
which it is intended the king shall govern^ [ should have re- 
nounced any place of favor into which the kindness and industry 
of my friends might have advanced me, when I found those that 
were better than I were, only fit to be destroyed. I had formerly 
some jealousies; the fraudulent proclamation for indemnity in- 



166 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

creased them; the imprisoning of those three men, and turning 
out of ail the officers of the army, contrary to promise, confirmed 
my resolution not to return. To conclude, the tide is not to be 
diverted, nor the oppressed delivered; but God in his time will 
have mercy on his people. He will save and defend them, and 
avenge the blood of those who shall now perish, upon the heads 
of those who, in their pride, think nothing is able to oppose them. 
Happy are those whom God shall make instruments of his justice 
in so blessed a work ! Jf I can live to see that day. I shall be ripe 
for the grave, and able to say with joy, '-Lord now Ictte^t thou thy 
servant depart in peace.'' Farewell. My thoughts as to king and 
state depending upon their actions, no man shall be a more faith- 
ful servant to him than I, if he make the good and prosperity of 
his people his glory ; none more his enemy if he dothe the contrary. 
To my particular friends I shall be constant in all occasions, and 
to you a most affectionate servant." 

It is not necessary to make the least apology for 
the introduction of this admirable letter, long as it is, 
in this place entire. It opens to us the innermost 
thoughts of Sidney, and gives us a truer insight into 
his character than any narrative of his actions that 
could be related. The reader will not fail to be 
struck with the singleness of purpose, and the deter- 
mined energy which is breathed in every line of it. 
Sidney had adopted his political principles with delib- 
eration, and with the honest sincerity of a thorough 
conviction of their truth. Not for an instant did he 
temporise with them. The thought of the possibility 
of change of these principles does not seem to have 
occurred to him ; between their sacrifice, and banish- 
ment, he did not suffer himself a moment to hesitate. 
This letter is without a date ; it is uncertain when it 



CHAPTER IV. 167 

was written. From the evidence it bears upon its 
face, we may infer some time after the act of indemni- 
ty, so called, was passed by the Parliament, and before 
the trial of Yane and others. His views upon taking 
employment under the government, it will be observ- 
ed, are entirely changed. In June, 1660, as we have 
seen, he wrote to his father, hinting that he would be 
willing to serve in Ireland ; — this was before Charles 
II. haS so cruelly deceived tlie hopes of the nation. 
Now, however, he says, he should "have renounced 
any place or favor," into which he might have been 
advanced, after such '' a manifestation of the ways by 
which it is intended the king shall govern." The 
letter is further interesting as containing his own 
reasons for remaining out of England. He formerly 
had " some jealousies" (suspicions) of the good faith 
of the king, in his declaration at Breda, proclaiming a 
general amnesty. These suspicions were increased by 
*' the fraudulent proclamation for indemnity," by im- 
prisoning " those three men," (Vane, Lambert, and 
Hazelrigge,) and " turning out all the officers of the 
army, contrary to promise.'' From these indications 
of bad faith, on the part of the king and Parliament, 
towards others, Sidney judged rightly, that though he 
himself was not excepted out of the act of pardon, by 
name, yet there was no safety in England for him or 
protection from the wrath of his bitter and revengeful 
enemies. 



CHAPTER V. 

Sidney at Hamburgh — Interview with Queen Christina — Travels 
through Europe — Arrives at Rome — His residence there and his 
description of it — Various letters from Rome — Cardinal Pellavicini — 
Sidney's pecuniary embarrasments in Italy — His despondency of 
mind — Letters to his father — He removes to Frascati.— His resi- 
dence at the villa of Belvidere — His letters from that place — Se- 
clusion of Sidney from the world— His employments and studies at 
this period, and his account of them — Attempts of some English 
emissaries to assassinate him — He leaves Italy — His further travels 
in Europe — Goes to Flanders — His visit to Ludlow — Attempts to enter 
into some foreign service, but is thwarted by government — War be- 
tween England and Holland in 1665 — Sidney at the Hague — Counsels 
an invasion of England — Repairs to France — Views of that govern- | 
merit — Its final abandonment of the exiles— Retires to an obscure 
residence in the south of France — Anecdote — Causes of, and circum- 
stances attending his return — Erroneous views of Hume respecting it 
— Sidney returns to England — Death of his father. 

In July, 1660, Sidney having finished his mission, 
took his leave of the Capital of Denmark, for Ham- 
burgh, where he awaited further orders from his 
father. Here he had several interviews with the cele- 
brated and ecoentric Christina, Queen of Sweden, 
who had some years before resigned her crown. From 



CHAPTER V. 169 

Hamburgh, lie travelled through a portion of Holland 
and Germany, and the following month we find him, 
by the date of a long letter, written to his father, in 
Frankfort on the Main. The Earl of Leicester had 
advised him not to go to Italy for the present, but to 
remain at Hamburgh. Yet Sidney, with his charac- 
teristic independence of disposition, had resolved other- 
wise, and accordingly we find him, in November of 
the same year, at Rome. 

An extract from his first letter from Rome has 
already been given, in which he informs his father of 
his arrival there, and apologizes for neglecting the pa- 
ternal advice. He found himself at Hamburgh "too 
apt to fall too deep into melancholy," &c. In short, he 
was uncomfortable at Hamburgh, or at any place in 
Grermany, and he resolved to visit the imperial city, 
now that all present hopes of his return to England 
were abandoned. He remained at Rome durinsr the 

o 

winter, and for some time after travelled in other 
parts of Italy. Various letters have been preserved in 
the collection to wdiich reference has been made, writ- 
ten during this period, some of them dated at Rome, 
others at Frascati. 

His manner of life in Italy was simple, retired, and 
unobtrusive. He neither courted nor shunned obser- 
vation. He did not seek notoriety, but yet as a noble 
and distinguished stranger, every access to the society 
of all in Rome, who were remarkable for learning, or 
talents, were open to him. He became acquainted 
with many of the distinguished cardinals of that city ; 
8 



170 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

"some of them," he says, '• the most extraordinary- 
persons I ever met with, others equal with the rest 
of the world. With some, I pretend only the per- 
formance of a civility and desire only a little know- 
ledge of them ; with others, I seek a straighter con- 
versation, and by frequent visits endeavor to gain it.'' 
In a long letter to the earl, dated from Rome, he 
sketches the characters of the twelve principal cardi- 
nals, in a manner, as he says, that may be relied on 
for truth, " without any bias." The reader may be 
curious to know how close an observer of character 
Sidney was, and with what degree of fidelity he traced 
it ; we therefore subjoin one of these sketches of a very 
distinguished and learned man of that day in Rome— 
the Cardinal Pellavicini : — 

f'llpJyVhath not a finer wit than Pellavicini, nor hath any con- 
vent a monk of a stricter life. It is said that sixpence a day serves 
him in meat; his bread and wine are furnished from the palace. 
Women never trouble his thoughts; they are unknown to him. 
He hath constantly refused great church livings ; and being lately 
pressed by the pope, who favors him very much, to receive one of 
great value, he answered — ' Your Ho'iness can add nothing to the 
favor of giving me this hat, but by employing me in such things 
as may be for your service, and bear testimony of my gratitude, I 
want nothing else.' He makes good his words, receiving not 
above three or four thousand crowns a year to keep up the state of 
a cardinal, having had nothing before he came to it. He labors 
incessantly in those knotty businesses that require much pains and 
yield no profit. This humor defends him from having rivals in his 
pretences. He hath showed it to be possible for the same man to 
he excellent in the Eelle Lettres and the most aeep and abstruse 
sciences. I do not think he hath so well joined the theory and 
practice of business. The extreme acutene^s of his wit, renders 



CH^^TEE Y. 171 

him admirable in the one, and fills his head with notions too nice 
and high for the other. Besides this he hath lived more among 
books and papers than men. He ever aims at perfection, and 
frames ideas in his fancy not always proportionable to worldly 
business, sometimes forgetting that the counsels as well as the 
sermons of men are ever defective, and that in human affairs, gov- 
ernors and ministers are not so much to seek what is exactly good 
as what is least evil, or least evil of those things which he hath 
power to accomplish. He is most meek and humble in his beha- 
viour, easy and gentle in treating of his own concernments ; but 
in spiritual and ecclesiastical affairs, his zeal renders him sharp 
and violent. These qualities show him to be an excellent cardi- 
nal, but would render him an ill pope, at least in the opinion of 
the courtiers, who will not endure to be overlooked by so sharp a 
sight master, nor reformed by such a bitter enemy to corruption 
and looseness. His severity beginning with himself, it is not 
hoped he will spare others."' 

The residence of Sidney in Italy, as in other places 
during his long exile, and his wanderings through 
Europe, were humiliated, if not embittered, by straight- 
ened resources and pecuniary difficulties. The Earl 
of Leicester does not appear to have dealt him out 
from his ample means with a very lavish hand. His 
own fortune was almost entirely wasted by the un- 
happy issue of the revolution, and, with the exception 
of what he might realize from his own industry, he 
looked solely to the pittance he received from his 
father, to support those decent external circumstances 
which became his rank and name. Fortunately, he 
says, living was cheap in Rome. " The prices of all 
things necessary to life are much increased since I was 
here the first time, but temperance is in fashion; 



172 ALGEENON SIDITEY. 

everybody lives upon little, so that the burden is not 
great upon strangers. Five shillings a day serves me 
and two men very well in meat, drink, and firing." 

Notwithstanding these moderate wants of Sidney, 
the supplies oame very slowly. Occasionally his 
private affairs are briefly mentioned in his lett -rs of 
this period, and once or twice he even uses the lan- 
guage of reproach at the parsimony of his rel?«tivo. 
Thus in his letter to his father from Rome, of Decem- 
ber 29th, 1660, he says : — 

" If there be no dtiference in living but lie tliat hath bread hath 
enough, I have some hopes of finding a provision for a longer time 
than T mentioned. If there be no reason for allowing me any as- 
sistance out of the family, as long as there is a possibility of my 
living without it, I have discharged you. If those helps are only 
to be given to those who have neither spirit nor industry in any- 
thing to help themselves, I pretend to deserve none. Or if sup- 
plies are only the rewards of importunity, or given to avoid the 
trouble of being solicited, I think I shall for ever free you from that 
reason. And as [ have /or some years run through greater straits 
than I believe any man ofmij condition hath done in England since 
I was horn without ever complaining, I shall with silence suffer 
what fortune soever doth remain unto me. I confess I thought 
another conclusion m.ight reasonably have been made upon what 
1 have said, but I leave that to your lordship's judgment and con- 
science. If you are satisfied with yourself, you shall not receive 
any trouble from 

" Your lordship's etc., 

"Alg. Sidney." 

Another letter, dated just before he left Rome, May 
2d, 1661, is written almost in a tone of despondency. 
He is afflicted, he says, with one of his ordinary fits 



CHAPTEE V. 173 

of the headache ; and is evidently in the lowest possi- 
ble state of spirits, so much so, that he declares his 
only hope is, that Grod will put an end to his troubles 
or his life. Some of the heaviest of these troubles 
appear to be his pecuniary embarrassments, and these 
must have been of great magnitude, if we judge from 
his own statement. " The misfortunes in which I 
was fallen by the destruction of our party did not 
shake me. The cheats and thefts of servants were 
too ordinary to trouble me. I suffered my mother's 
legacy to be drawn from me upon which I might 
have subsisted a good while. I was not very much 
surprised to find myself betrayed and robbed of all 
that with which I had trusted Lady Strangford, but 
I confess that I am sorely troubled to find that Sir J. 
Temple is going into Ireland," &c., &c. Sidney then 
mentions the difficulties he had heard concerning 
certain mortgages and real estate, and adds: '^And 
by all these means together I find myself destitute 
of all help at home, and exposed to all those troub- 
les, inconveniences, and mischiefs unto which they 
are exposed who have nothing to subsist upon in a 
place far from home, where no assistance can pos- 
sibly be expected, and where I am known to he a 
man of quality^ which makes all low and mean ways 
of living shameful and detestable." To a proud and 
sensitive mind like that of Sidney such embarrass- 
ments must have been galling in the extreme, and we 
can readily appreciate the feeling that stung him 
into ■'^hese expressions of impatience in his corrospon- 



174 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

dence with a relative, on whose kindness and assist- 
ance he had such strong claims. 

But to turn to more agreeable matters. From 
Eome he went to Frascati, where we fiad him court- 
ing solitude and seclusion — a student of books as he 
had been, in the imperial city, a student of men. He 
had fixed his residence at the villa of Belvidere, one 
of the finest in Italy, a short distance from Frascati, 
from whence his letters are dated. A nephew of the 
late Pope, the Prince of Pamphili ; had given him 
very convenient apartments in the palace with the 
use of a rare library and beautiful gardens. Here 
Sidney passed his time, for a brief season, in all the 
elegant tranquillity of a refined and philosophic mind.* 

In his first letter to his father from Frascati, under 
date of June 7th, 1661, he dwells with evident satisfac- 
tion upon the comforts of his new residence, and also 
describes his studies and pursuits : — 

" Whilst everybody at Rome is panting and gasping for life m 
the heat, which they say this year is much greater than ordinary, 
I enjoy so fresh an air as to have no reason to complain of the sun. 
Here are wells and fountains in the greatest perfection, and though 
my natural delight in solitude is very much increased this year, I 
cannot desire to he more alone than I am and hope to continue. 
My conversation is with birds, trees, and books ; in these last 
months that I have had no business at all, I have applied myself to 
study a little more than I have done formerly ; and though one who 
begins at my age, cannot hope to make any considerable progress 
that way, I find so much satisfaction in it, that for the future I 
shall very unw^illingly (though I had the opportunity) put myself 

*Brief Memoirs by Richard Chase Sidney. 



CHAPTER V. 175 

into any way of living that shall deprive me of that entertainment. 
Whatever hath been formerly the object of my thoughts and de- 
sires, I have now intention of seeking very little more than quiet- 
ness and retirement." 

The villa of Belvidere of \7hxicli Sidney thus speaks, 
was half a mile from Frasoati. From the glowing 
descriptions he gives, it must have been a place of rare 
and enchanting beauty, and finely adapted to that life 
of quiet and contemplative retirement which he v/as 
now coLirting. In his very next letter to his father 
he again speaks of the beauties of his retreat, and the 
nature of his present pursuits : — 

"Nature, art, and treasure, can hardly make a place more plea- 
sant than this. The description of it would look more like poetry 
than truth. A Spanish lady coming not long since to see this 
house, sealed in a large plain, out of the middle of a rock, and a 
river brought to the top of the mountain, ingeniously dcoired those 
that were present not to pronounce the name of our Saviour, lest 
it should dissolve this beautiful enchantment. VVe have passed 
the solstice, and I have not yet had occasion to complain of heat, 
which in Rome is very excessive, and hath filled the town with 
sickness, especially that part of it where I lived. Here is what I 
look for, health, quiet, and solitude. 1 am v;ith some eagerness 
fallen to reading, and find so much satisfaction in it, that though I 
every morning see the sun rise, I never go abroad until six or seven 
o'clock at night; yet cannot I he so sure of my temper as to know 
how long this manner of life will please meP 

Sidney then speaks of the hapless condition to 
which he is reduced by the late misfortunes which 
had befallen his party, and his country. His lan- 
guage, though desponding, still gives evidence that he 



176 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

possesses the same firm and unbending spirit in ad- 
versity : ^ 

"I carxHot but rejoice a little to find that when I wander as a 
vagabond through the world, forsaken of my friends, poor, and 
known only to be a broken limb of a shipwrecked faction, I yet 
find humanity and civility from those who are in the height of for- 
tune and reputation. But I do also well know, I am in a strange 
land, how far those civilities do extend, and that they are too airy 
to feed or clothe a man. I cannot so unite my thoughts unto one 
object, as absolutely to forbid the memory of such things as these 
are to enter into them; but I go as far as I can, and since I cannot 
forget what is passed, nor be absolutely insensible of what is present* 
I defend myself reasonably well from increasing or anticipating 
evils by foresight. The power of foreseeing is a happy q uality 
unto those who prosper, and can ever propose to themselves some- 
thing of greater felicity than they enjoy ; but a most desperate 
mischief unto them who, by foreseeing can discover nothing that is 
not \^orse than the evils they do already feel. He that is naked, 
alone, and without help in the open sea, is less unhappy in the night 
when he may hope the land is near, than in the day time when he 
sees it not, and that there is no posibility of safety.^'' 

Sidney was now living, as he himself expressed it, 
" a hermit in a palace." He had left Rome, (where 
his virtues and noble conduct had procured him the 
respect and friendship of the most distinguished of 
the nobility, clergy, and learned men of the day,) 
" to avoid the necessity," as he says in the letter 
above quoted from, " of making and receiving visits" 
among so large a circle of acquaintances. In his 
'' Apology" he states one of his reasons for making 
Eome his retreat ; it was in order that the most 
malicious of his enemies should not pretend that he 



CHAPTEE V. 1Y7 

practiced anything against the government, since 
Rome *'was certainly an ill scene to act anything 
that was displeasing with it." But, he further re- 
marks, he soon found out his mistake, and that " no 
inofFensiveness of behavior could preserve me against 
the malice of those who sought to destroy me ; and 
was defended from such as there designed to assas- 
sinate me only by the charity of strangers." His 
change of residence from Rome to Frascati, and his 
withdrawal into a profound seclusion, he hoped would 
be attended with better results, and that if not en- 
tirely forgotten at home, he would at least not be 
molested with the officious notice and slanders of 
those who desired to effect his ruin. In his last letter, 
dated from Frascati, July 24th, 1661, he says on this 
subject : — 

" I intend this half burial as a preparative to an 
entire one, and shall not be much troubled though I 
find, if upon the knowledge of my manner of life, 
they who the last year at Whitehall did exercise their 
tongues upon me as a very unruly headed 7na7i, do so 
far change their opinion of me on the sudden as to 
believe me so dull and lazy as to be fit for nothing. 
"When that opinion is well settled, I may hope to live 
quietly in England, and then shall think it a season- 
able time to return." 

But many years were destined to elapse before 
such an opinion was formed of him at the court 
of Charles 11. as could induce the government to 
sufFtr his return. The sentiments he was known to 



178 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

entertain, united with genius, courage, and intre- 
pidity, made him a man who could not be the friend, 
and was sure to prove the formidable enemy of the 
government. He was therefore honored with un- 
ceasing hostility and persecution. No where was he 
safe. Vengeance was forever on his path, and the 
stealthy step of the assassin continually pursued him. 
It seems well established that the government, on 
more than one occasion, attempted to resort to the 
base and detestable means of secret assassination, in 
order to get rid of one who was regarded by it as a 
dangerous enemy. Not only at Rome, but also in 
Flanders and Holland, Sidney says in his "Apology," 
the same dangers surrounded him, and that even 
when he withdrew into the remotest parts of Grermany, 
one Andrew White, and some others were sent to 
murder him. This latter circumstance is also re- 
lated in the memoirs of Ludlow, who states that it 
was in the year 1665, upon the breaking out of the 
war between England and the United Provinces. 
Col. Sidney was then at Augsburgh, and ten ruffians 
were despatched by authority of the king's govern- 
ment to assassinate him ; it is added that they might 
have accomplished their infamous purpose, if he had 
not before their arrival retired from that city into 
Holland, being called thither on some matters of 
business. 

How long Sidney remained in his retreat at the 
villa of Belvidere is not known. His last letter from 
Frascati, and indeed the last which has been preserved, 



CHAPTER V. 17\) 

written from Italy, is that dated July 24th, 1661. In 
it he hints an intention to go to Naples in the autumn, 
and from thence to Sicily and Malta, to pass the 
winter in some of these places, returning to Rome in 
the spring. This journey he probably undertook 
"We have, however, no further details of his residence 
at Rome or in Italy up to his departure in 1663, and 
nothing has been preserved of his correspondence. 
A manuscript discourse in Italian, vmtten or tran- 
scribed by him, preserved in the library at Penshurst, 
attests his intimate knowledge of that language. It 
is marked by the Earl of Leicester as the work of an 
unknown author, but has been regarded by others as 
the production of Sidney, whose name appeared at the 
end in a distinguished cypher.^ 

The care of his private affairs called him from 
Italy to Flanders. On his way thither, he visit- 
ed his old brother in arms. General Ludlow, and 
his companions, at Vevay, in Switzerland. The 
friendship existing between Ludlow and Sidney was 
cordial and sincere, and the interviev.- must have 
called up many interesting reminiscences. Ludlow 
was one of the regicides — a sincere republican, and, 
even by the admission of his enemies, an honest man 
He had escaped the vengeance of the royalists by 
timely flight, and by settling in a country then be- 
yond the influence and the reach of the English 
government. He was, therefore, able to live openly 
and with comparative safety, while GrofFe and Whaley 
* iMeadley's Memoirs 



180 ALGERNON SrONET. 

were hiding themselves like hunted beasts of prey 
in the caverns of New England. Ludlow had suf- 
fered with constancy and fortitude for the same 
glorious cause in defence of which Sidney encoun- 
tered exile and banishment. He resigned without a 
murmur a princely fortune, and country, and friends, 
rather than prove recreant to the republican principles 
of his youth, or, by surrendering himself upon the 
king's proclamation, obtain his pardon by an un- 
worthy recantation. Nor did Ludlow ever recant his 
republican faith ; nor did he, to the day when he laid 
down his head in death, an old man, in poverty and 
exile, ever intimate a doubt of the justice of the 
g^reat action of his life — his vote in the condemnation 
of the king. More than twmity years after the 
period of Sidney's visit, when the unfortunate rebel- 
lion in which Monmouth fell was projected, and when 
Monmouth himself hesitated to head the rebels, Lud- 
low was sought out in his retreat on the shores of 
Lake Leman, and urged to take the command. But 
age, which had not impaired the spirit of his youth, 
had paralyzed his limbs, and he could only reply that 
" his ivork ivas done ; if England was still to be 
saved, she must be saved by younger men."* 

The visit of Sidney to Ludlow is a striking in- 
stance of his fearless intrepidity and moral courage. 
It could not but be known in England that the exile 
of liberty had turned aside in his wanderings to visit 
the outlavv^ed regicide, and to renew the friendship 
* Slacaiilay's History of England. 



CHAPTER V. 181 

which common misfortune had but served to cement ; 
and the intelligence could not fail to furnish new 
food for the slanders which were circulated against 
him at Whitehall, and to place still farther off the 
period of his return to his native country. Sidney, 
at his departure, presented Ludlow a pair of pistols 
of Italian workmanship, as a token of his friendship ; 
and proceeding to Berne, rendered some good offices 
to the exiles, with the magistrates of that place. 

Soon after this, Sidney, persecuted on every side, 
and almost entirely deprived of the means of sub- 
sistance, attempted to enter into some foreign em- 
ployment, and with this view undertook to make 
arrangement to serve in Hungary as a volunteer. He 
wrote to his father with the view of proposing to the 
English government, through the Earl of Sunderland, 
his nephew, to engage in the service of the emperor 
a body of troops raised from among his old associates. 
But the government not only discountenanced but 
thwarted his designs, and the project seems to have 
been abandoned. 

In 1665, war again broke out between Holland and 
England. De Witt was then at the head of affairs 
in the Dutch Republic ; and his liberal sentiments, 
known to be thoroughly in accordance with those of 
the English republicans, were such as to give en- 
couragement to the exiles, many of whom looked 
forward to the success of Holland as the prelude to 
the restoration of the Commonwealth. Among these 
was Col. Sidney, who repaired to the Hague with the 



182 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

view of urging the Dutch government to attempt the 
invasion of England — a design then, doubtless, pre- 
mature, but which, after more than twenty years of 
misgovernment, was successfully brought about by 
William of Orange. De Witt, however, gave little 
countenance to the proposed invasion. He doubted 
not only its policy but its practicability ; and jealous 
of the liberties and prosperity of his own country, he 
did not choose to hazard these by any such enter- 
prize, which, however it might enlist his sympathies, 
presented so doubtful an issue. When France unit- 
ed with the States' G-eneral, the project of an in- 
vasion was renewed, and both Sidney and Ludlow 
were invited to Paris. Ludlow, however, seems to 
have suspected the sincerity of the proposal, and re- 
fused to leave his retreat ; but Sidney, after a confer- 
ence with the French resident at Mentz, repaired to 
Paris, where he submitted to the court his proposals 
for exciting an insurrection in England. The French 
government offered him twenty thousand crowns, 
with a promise of all necessary assistance v/hen there 
should be a more certain prospect of success. Sid- 
ney, considering this entirely inadequate to the 
accomplishment of the object in view, declined it ; 
and here the negotiations ended. The treaty of 
Breda, in 1667, put an end to all these designs ; the 
cause of the exiles was abandoned ; Louis XIV. re- 
sorted to diplomacy, intrigue, and bribery, to main- 
tain his ascendency in England, and the hope of the 
restoration of the Commonwealth vanished forever. 



CHAPTER V. 183 

Sidney now retired into the south of France and 
buried himself in obscurity. The very place of his 
retreat was unknown. It appears, however, that he 
kept up an occasional correspondence with the cele- 
brated diplomatist, Sir William Temple, son of his 
old friend. Sir John Temple, who resided as ambassa- 
dor at the Hague, after the downfall of De Witt and 
the accession of the Prince of Orange to the govern- 
ment. In this retirement, where he remained for 
nearly ten years, it is supposed that he completed, if 
he did not actually digest, and write the whole of his 
celebrated Discourses on Government, Mr. Meadley 
observes that, " no other portion of his life afforded, 
adequate leisure for the important task, as his work is 
evidently the result of much reading and reflection 
combined with a very accurate knowledge of the hu- 
man character as developed by the practice of man- 
kind." He occasionally, too, visited Paris where 
his high character and capacity were known and 
respected by the courtiers of Louis XIY. An anecdote 
is related of Sidney, in one of these visits, which is 
strikingly illustrative of his spirit and moral courage 
He was the owner of a fine English horse with which, 
one day, he joined a chase in the retinue of the king. 
Observing the fine movements and spirit of the ani- 
mal, the king resolved to have him, and sent a mes- 
senger to Sidney requesting him to deliver the horse 
and name his own price, of course not anticipating a 
refusal. To the surprise of Louis, the English exile 
declined the proposal ; whereupon the king, deter- 



184: ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

mining to take no denial, gave orders to tender the 
money and seize the horse. On hearing this, Sidney- 
drew a pistol and shot it, saying, '^ that his horse was 
born a free creature, had served a free man, and 
should not be mastered by a king of slaves." 

The period of Sidney's exile at length drew to a 
close. After an absence of seventeen years, the Earl 
of Leicester, now having reached the advanced age 
of eighty-two, and every day rapidly failing in health 
and strength, desired once more before he died, to see 
his favorite son. The Earl of Sunderland was then 
an influential member of the royal councils. Henry 
Saville, the younger brother to the Marquis of Hali- 
fax, v/as ambassador to France. By their joint influ- 
ence, but principally by that of Saville, Sidney ob- 
tained permission to return to England. In a letter 
to Saville, dated at Paris, November, 14th, 1682, — 
the date of which, as published in the collection of 
his letters, is evidently a mistake, it being in the 
year 1676 he inquires of Saville respecting his suc- 
cess in the " business you were pleased to speak of," 
referring, of course, to the negotiations for his return. 
The same year, Dec. 18th, he acknowledges to Saville 
the receipt of three letters. Sidney was then at 
Nerac, and in these letters from the ambassador, he 
was informed of his liberty to return to England. His 
gratitude to the friend who had thus served him, is 
sincere and frankly expressed : 

" My obligation unto you is the same, and I so far 
acknowledge it to be the greatest that I have in a long 



CHAPTEE V. 185 

time received from any man, as not to value the leave 
you have obtained for me to return into my country 
after so long an absence, at a lower rate than the sav- 
ing of my life. You having proceeded thus far, I will 
without any scruple put myself entirely upon the 
king^s ivord^ and desire you only to obtain a passport, 
signifying it, and that his majesty is pleased to send 
for me, so as the officers of the ports and other places 
may not stop me, as they will be apt to do as soon as 
they know my name, if I have not that for my pro- 
tection." 

In the same letter, after stating in confidence to 
his friend that he has no other business in England, 
except such as concerns his person and family, he de- 
clares his intention, if the king is not satisfied with 
his remaining there, to return to France after the end 
of three months. 

That this was Sidney's intention, is also evident 
from a letter written by him, after his return, from 
Leicester House, London, to one Benjamin Furly, a 
merchant at Rotterdam, in which he says : — 

" I can give you no other account of my return 
than that my desire of being and rendering some ser- 
vice unto my old father, persuaded me to ask leave to 
come over. And living in a world subject to all man- 
ner of changes, easily received a grant of that which I 
could not formerly have obtained. But my father 
being dead within six weeks after my arrival, I have 
no other business here than to clear some small 
contests that are grown between one of my brothers 



186 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

and me, concerning that which he hath left me, and 
if it please Grod to give success unto my endeavors in 
composing them, I shall have nothing relating unto 
this world, so much at heart as the desire of returning 
from hence, icithotit one thought of ever retiring^ 
and carrying with me that which may be sufficient to 
purchase a convenient habitation in G-ascony, not far 
from Bordeaux, where I may in quiet finish those days 
that God hath appointed for mc/' 

It has been represented by Hume, and some other 
writers, that Col. Sidney asked from Charles II. a 
'pardon^ and that, having obtained.it, he treacher- 
ously acted against the government. But the charge 
is utterly untenable ; Sidney neither asked nor accept- 
ed a pardon, as appears manifest from the letters to 
Saville and Furly, just quoted as v/ell as from his other 
letters to his father, and his known independence and 
firmness of character. This charge was made against 
him, after his trial and execution, by Dr. Sprat, who 
wrote the history of the Rye-house Plot, by command 
of Charles and James, and was rewarded for his ser- 
vices by being soon after created bishop of Rochester. 
Subsequent writers have made the same statement on 
the authority of Dr. Sprat, the falsehood of which is 
apparent from the letters already alluded to, as well 
as from the fact mentioned by a friendly biographer, =^ 
that nothing was said on the subject at his trial by 
Jeffreys, or the other law officers of the crown, who 
would undoubtedly have availed themselves of the cir- 
* Richard Chase Sidney. Brief Mem. of Algernon Sidney. 



CHAPTER V. 18 Y 

cumstance to have influenced the jury against him. 
Nor does the Duke of York, in his letters to the Prince 
of Orange in 1683, take any notice of his iiardon. 
These facts seem conclusively to refute the idea that 
he had asked or received any pardon from the govern- 
ment. 

Having obtained the king's passport, and relying, 
as he says, " entirely upon the king's word" — a pledge 
v^rhich in Vane's case had been so shamefully violated 
Sidney returned to England in the Autumn of 1667. 
His father died soon after his arrival, and on the 13th 
of November of the same year, at Penshurst, he gave 
a discharge to the Earl's executors for the legacy be- 
queathed to him, amounting only to five thousand one 
hundred pounds. His return into France, hovv^ever, 
was prevented by his elder brother. Lord Lisle, now 
Earl of Leicester, questioning his title to some pro- 
perty, which he had received from his father. This 
led to a long and vexatious suit in chancery, which 
detained him in England. The suit terminated favor- 
ably, and his claims were finally established ; but in 
the meantime Sidney became involved in that unfor- 
tunate combination of public events which finally led 
him to the scafibld. 



CHAPTEE VI. 

Political views of Sidney — His opinion of the danger of a standing army 
— Project of a war with France — Opposition of Sidney — Corruption 
of the king — Sidney charged with being a pensioner of France — The 
charge examined and refuted — Character of Barillon, and Sidney's 
views of it — The Popish plot — Sidney's opposition to Papacy — A 
new Parliament— Sidney a candidate — Is defeated by the court — Bill 
excluding the Duke of York from the throne — Passes the House of 
Commons, and defeated in the House of Lords — Sidney's opinions as 
to the succession — Treachery of the king with the new council — Sid- 
ney's letter to Neville — A new Parliament summoned — Sidney a 
candidate and again defeated — His position with respect to the court — 
Attempt to involve him in a conspiracy of the non -conformists — The 
king's opinion of Sidney — Fate of the exclusion bill — Dissolution of 
Parliament, and spirited conduct of the Commons. 

vSidney's continued residence in England, occasioned, 
as we have seen, by the suit in which he had become 
so unexpectedly involved, was permitted by the 
government, not as a matter of favor to him, but, 
most probably, out of consideration to his connections 
and friends, such as Sunderland, Halifax, and Sir 
William Temple, the most influential and ablest 
statesmen in the councils of Charles II. He did not, 
however, remain long in his native country before the 



CHAPTER VI. 189 

lively interest he had always felt in its public affairs 
manifested itself in open and decided action. Hume 
says that Sidney joined the popular party, when the 
factions arising from the Popish plot began to run 
high ; and that, full of those ideas of liberty which 
he had imbibed from the great examples of antiquity, 
he was even willing to seek a second time, through 
all the horrors of civil war, for his adored republic. 
The statement w^ould have been nearer the truth 
had it been that Sidney always belonged to the 
popular party; and if he now "joined it," in the 
sense, perhaps, intended by the historian, it was not 
to seek a republican government, through all the 
horrors of civil war, but to carry out consistently and 
firmly the political principles which his whole life 
illustrated. 

"We shall assume that the reader is familiar with 
the leading features of the political history of this 
period, and will not attempt, therefore, to do more 
than to mention, in a general manner, that train of 
public events connected with Sidney's career, which 
eventually led to his execution. The long Parlia- 
ment which Charles II. had summoned, composed 
principally of servile and devoted royalists, had now 
been in existence during a period of nearly eighteen 
years. The inglorious and every way despicable ad- 
ministration of the king, had brought the country 
into disgrace and contempt. A greater contrast it is 
scarcely possible to conceive than between the Eng- 
land under the rule of the Protector, and that same 



190 ALGEENON SYDNEY. 

England under the government of Charles IL, at one 
time assisted by the counsels of the intolerant Claren- 
don ; at another, under the guidance of his contempt- 
ible " Cabair Charles was known to be a pensioner 
of Louis XIY., receiving that monarch's money with- 
out scruple, and furthering the policy of Barillon, the 
intriguing minister of the French king. But besides 
the effeminacy and shamefal profligacy of the king, 
and his truckling subserviency to a foreign monarch, 
the tendency of his whole policy, so far as it could be 
said that he had a policy, under his ministers, par- 
ticularly the Cabal^ and the Earl of Danby, had been 
to enslave his subjects, to destroy the liberties of his 
country, and to make himself absolute master of his 
people. 

At this period, when the Parliament was urging the 
king into a war wnth France, a favorite design of 
Charles' seems to have been to raise and keep on foot 
a standing army, which experience has always shown 
to be the most formidable instrument of tyrants. 
Sidney, whose knowledge of the danger of a standing 
army in Cromwell's time, had given him just views 
on this subject, earnestly deprecated this projected 
war with France, and did not hesitate to declare to 
his friends that it was " a juggle, since the two courts 
being in entire confidence, nothing more was intended 
by this show of warfare than to raise an army and 
afterwards tc keep it for training and modelling 
beyond sea." The war, however, was popular in 
England : the Parliament voted the king supplies, and 



CHAPTEE Y. 191 

in a few weeks an army of twenty thousand men was 
equipped, ready for action, and an alliance between 
England, Holland, Spain, and the Emperor, projected. 
This alarmed Louis XIV., whose address and diplo- 
macy, however, soon succeeded in warding off the 
threatened danger, and in renewing with his brother 
of England, those amicable relations, no less advan- 
tageous to the one, than disgraceful and ignominious 
to the other. That Sidney's suspicions as to the 
object and design of the war on the part of Charles 
were correct, may be reasonably inferred from the 
fact, that Louis as usual resorted to the purse in order 
to detach the King of England from the coalition, and 
offered him large sums of money if he would consent 
to allow France to make an advantageous peace with 
the allies. The bait was too tempting for the king to 
refuse ; but there was one article of the negotiation, 
we are told, which displeased, as well as surprised 
him ; Louis required that he should never keep 
above eight thousand regular troops in England. 
'* 'Odd's fish!" exclaimed the king, breaking out 
into his usual exclamation, '• Does my brother of 
France think to serve me thus ? Are all his promises 
to make me absolute master of my people come to 
this ? Or does he think that a thing to be done with 
eight thousand men ?" A more despicable example of 
the monarch of a great nation, trafficking in the honor, 
and bargaining away the interests and liberties of his 
country for inglorious ease, pleasure, and gold, it is 
difficult to find in history. 



192 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

It was this opposition to the contemplated war with 
France — the jealousy of entrusting the King of Eng- 
land and his brother the Duke of York with an army, 
for fear that it might be brought to subvert what w^as 
left of the constitution and liberties of the country, 
which first drew upon Sidney the calumny that he 
was a pensioner of France. Though the jealousy was 
shared by many of the most eminent of the opposition, 
or country party as it was then termed, with whose 
liberal sentiments Col. Sidney sympathized, yet he 
seems to have been the first to encounter the charge. 
It originated, however, from no very elevated source 
— the Earl of Shaftesbury. Sidney and the earl 
had a violent quarrel. Shaftesbury asserted that 
Sidney was a French pensioner, and a spy of the 
Earl of Sunderland. Of a temper that could ill brook 
such*an insult in silence, Sidney at once sent a mes- 
sage by his friend Hampden demanding an explana- 
tion. That the explanation was satisfactory, may be 
inferred from Sidney's well known courage and pride 
of character. Between him and Shaftesbury all inter- 
course thereafter ceased. 

The malice of his enemies has left upon Sidney's 
memory but this one dishonorable charge — the charge 
of being a pensioner of France — which, dying with 
Shaftesbury in 1682, was nearly a century afterwards 
revived. Sir John Dalrymple, in his " Memoirs of 
Grreat Britain and Ireland," which appeared in 1773, 
has published certain papers, obtained from the public 
archives in France, tending to show that Sidney actually 



CHAPTEE YI. 193 

received (he money of Louis XIV. for the purpose of 
furthering the designs of that monarch in England, 
and of preventing the war against France. It will be 
proper here briefly to examine the origin and ground 
of this serious accusation. 

The papers published by Dahymple, purport to be 
extracts from the despatches of Barillon, the ambassa- 
dor of Louis in England, from which it appears that 
Barillon had carried on his intrigues with Lords Rus- 
sell and Hollis, the Duke of Buckingham, Hampden, 
Sidney, and others of the opposition, all of whom, ex- 
cept Russell and Hollis had received presents^ either 
from Barillon himself or his agents. It appears from 
the papers, that Sidney, on two occasions, had taken 
sums of five hundred guineas each. Thus authenti- 
cated, the charge has been credited by other and sub- 
sequent writers, among whom we regret to find Mr. 
Macauley, who, while he recognizes the claim of Sid- 
ney '• to be called a hero, a philosopher, and a patriot," 
sees no reason to discredit the evidence on which he 
stands accused. Mr. Macauley, in speaking of these 
pensiojiers says — " It would be unjust to impute to them 
the extreme wickedness of taking bribes to injure their 
country. On the contrary, they meant to serve her; 
but it is impossible to deny that they were mean and 
indelicate enough to let a foreign prince pay them for 
serving her ;" and, on the authority of Sir John Dal- 
rymple's disclosures alone, he thinks that even the 
virtue and pride of Algernon Sidney were not proof 
against the temptation. 
9 



194 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

It is impossible to dissent from an authority so emi« 
nent and so liberal as this accomplished author, without 
distrusting the correctness of our own conclusions. 
But in this case, the charge is one so repugnant to 
every idea we have been able to form of the character 
of Sidney, so utterly at variance with the whole tenor 
of his life, so inconsistent with every sentiment to bo 
found in his written discourses, or his private corres- 
pondence, that it seems, notwithstanding Mr. Macau- 
ley's indorsement, to bear its own refutation on its 
face. The source of his authority — the one isolated, 
naked relation contained in the despatch of Barillon, 
as published by Dairy mple — is as open to our own in- 
vestigation as to his, and, upon an examination of it, 
the inference seems irresistible that the evidence is 
entirely insufficient to fasten such an unworthy suspi- 
cion upon such a man as Sidney. It may be mentioned 
that besides other writers of less note^ one of the most 
eminent of living British statesmen. Lord John Russell, 
on a full examination of the charge, pronounces it a 
calumny. In the life of his noble ancestor, Lord Wil- 
liam Russell, the co-patriot and fellow martyr with 
Sidney, ha carefully investigates and conclusively re- 
futes the dishonorable accusation. His opinion on this 
subject is briefly summed up in the following passage : 
*' No one of common sense, I imagine, can believe that 
he took the money for himself His character is one 
of heroic pride and generosity. His declining to sit in 
judgment on the king; his extolling the sentence 
when Charles IT, was restored ; his shooting a horse, 



CHAPTER VI. 195 

for which Louis XIV. offered him a large sum, that he 
might not submit to the will of a despot, are all traits 
of a spirit as noble as it is uncommon. With a soul 
above meanness, a station above poverty, and a tem- 
per of philosophy above covetousness. what man will 
be envious enough to think that he was a pensioner of 
France." 

The accuracy of the copies of these despatches pub- 
lished by Dalrymple has been doubted.* Admitting, 
however, for the sake of the argument their genuineness, 
they seem to bear upon their face, in connexion with the 
known circumstances under which they were written, 
evidence of their falsehood. Barillon was undoubtedly 
deceived himself, or he wilfully deceived his sovereign ; 
the latter supposition being the most probable. No 
doubt there were some members of the parliament, as 
well as Charles himself, who received French gold, — 
and Barillon was Louis' disbursing agent. He came 
over to England in not very affluent circumstances, 

^ Of Sir John Dalrymple's book, Lord Russell says : " At first one is 
inclined to believe that his taste for bombast led to numerous errors ; 
but when it appears, as I think it does in the following pages, that there 
is not a single member of the whig party of any note whom he has not 
traduced by false allegations, it is difficult to acquit him of intentional 
misrepresentation." 

It should be mentioned that the accuracy of Dalrymple's copies which 
he took in France, rests solely upon his own evidence. Lord Russell, 
while engaged in collecting the materials for his work, was very naturally 
desirous of inspecting personally these records, and for that purpose made 
an application to the French government through its minister in London, 
the Count de Caraman. The request was, however, refused, the ambas- 
sador assuring him that it was entirely contrary to the regulations of the 
office, and citing him a precedent to that effect. 



196 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

and returned after the Eevolution loaded with riches. 
The diplomatic agents of the French king were per- 
mitted, if not authorized, to pay themselves out of the 
money entrusted to their care. That all the money of 
which Barillon pretended to give an account to his 
master, actually passed out of his hands, is not at all 
probable, judging from his sudden acquisition of 
wealth, as well as from his known character for 
intrigue and double-dealing. He doubtless deceived 
Louis and put the money into his own pocket ;* and 
the question is, therefore, which supposition is the 
most rational, the venality of Barillon, or the corrup- 
tion of Sidney ? Certainly the ambassador has nothing 
the advantage on the score of character. 

It is to be observed, too, that at the period of the 
alleged receipt of these presents from Barillon, Sidney 
had been but a short time in England, was under the 
ban of the government, entirely devoid of political 
influence of any kind, and was really not worth the 
purchasing, particularly by so shrewd a bargainer as 
Barillon ; yet his was exactly the name for that wily 
ambassador to use in his dispatches to Louis to cover 
up his peculations. The French king had known Sid- 

* Lord Russell inclines to the other opinion. Although he more than 
doubts the integrity of Barillon, yet from the fact that the money was not 
personally disbursed by him, but was made to pass through the hands 
of a few corrupt tools of the minister, he arrives at the conclusion that 
Barillon was imposed upon. '• It seems most probable, upon the whole," 
he says, " that Barillon was persuaded he was buying the first speakers 
in parliament, and ruling the decisions of the House of Commons, whilst 
in fact he was only paying a lew skillful intriguers." 



CHAPTER VI. 197 

ney, and was well acquainted with his determination 
and energy of character during his long residence in 
France, and Barillon could well conceive that his 
master would sanction this part of his accounts for 
money expended in gaining over such a man, espe- 
cially when accompanied with the falsehood that Sid- 
ney was really a man of political influence and that 
he had been of " great service to him on many occa- 
sions." The ambassador seems very willing indeed to 
disburse a larger amount of money on that account 
and he intimates to Louis, that by '' « little more 
being given,-'' he believed that Sidney might be easily 
gained over to his majesty's service. Y/e think these 
dispatches carry their own refutation with them, and 
that the mean imputation they cast upon the charac- 
ter of Sidney, sustained as it is only on Barillon's 
secret communication to the French court, is unde- 
serving a notice in history. It should be added, too, 
that the whole amount of this secret service money 
claimed to have been disbursed by Barillon was only 
sixteen thousand pounds in three years, and that the 
recipients were twenty or more, among whom were 
the Duke of Buckingham and other members of par- 
liament of the greatest influence, who certainly, one 
would think, were not to be purchased for a song.^ It 

* Lord John Russell on this point very justly observes : " It is re- 
markable that of the twenty persons mentioned in Barillon's last and 
longest list, not above half were in parliament, and almost all of these 
were leaders. Now. if any one or two obtained money from Barillon 
for persons to whom they did not distribute it, or if Barillon himself 
embezzled the money, the names which would naturally appear in his 



198 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

does not seem very probable that the shrewd French- 
man would actually have wasted a thousand guineas 
on the proscribed Sidney, when members of parlia- 
ment and votes were to be had, as he pretends, at a 
less price. 

That Sidney entertained a contempt for the charac- 
acter and pretensions of Barillon, and that any inter- 
course he may have had with him, so far from being 
of a confidential nature, was merely tolerated and not 
courted is evident from Sidney's correspondence of 
that period with Saville, the English Ambassador in 
Paris. In a letter under date of July 10th, 1679,* he 
contemptuously mentions the French minister : — 

" You know Monsieur de Barillon governs us, if he 
be not mistaken ; but he seems to be not so much 
pleased with that, as to find his embonpoint increased 
by the moistness of our air, by frequently clapping his 
hands upon his thighs, showing the delight he hath in 
the sharpness of the sound that testifies the plumpness 
and hardness of his flesh ; and certainly if this climate 
did not nourish him better than any other, the hairs of 
his nose and nails of his fingers could not grow so fast 
as to furnish enough of the one to pull out, and of the 

list would be those of the speakers of the greatest reputation. But if 
the transactions were real, it is much more probable that he should have 
been able to buy the lower and more obscure members of parliament, 
than those whose fame stood highest for ability and integrity." — Life of 
Lord William Russell^ vol i., p. 199. 

* One of Barillon's charges of money against Sidney, is of the date 
of December 14th, 1679; the other of December 5th, 1680. 



CHAPTER VI. 199 

other to cut off, in all companies, which being done, he 
pricks his ears with as good a grace as my Loi J La !" 

The pretended war with France, the raising of an 
array which the king refused to disband, and the long 
series of arbitrary measures which the government of 
Charles was enabled, by a servile Parliament, gradually 
to adopt, at length awakened the minds, and roused 
the spirits of the English nation. During the seventeen 
years of the present Parliament there had been many 
vacancies among its members, mainly occasioned by 
death. These had been filled up in nearly every in- 
stance by members op])osed to the court. And the 
country party, or, as it was at this period, first styled, 
in derision by its opponents, the ivliigs, were soon in 
a situation to control its delibnrations and to thwart 
the royal designs. 

The famous Popish Plot at this time broke out. It 
was quickly seized upon by Shaftesbury, and some of 
the more unscrupulous leaders of the whigs, and soon 
became a most formidable political engine. The ha- 
tred against popery at that time, and for years after, 
was a common sentiment with both political parties 
in England. It was believed, and, doubtless, with 
some truth, as the next reign sadly illustrated, that 
the establishment of popery was dangerous to the lib- 
erties and constitution of the nation ; and accord- 
ingly, ever since the Reformation, with the single 
exception of the reign of Queen Mary, Parliament had 
enacted and continued the severest, and, in some 
cases, the most intolerant laws against the Papist?; 



200 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

and their religion. Even the liberal principles of the 
republicans, and the tolerance of the Protector's gov- 
ernment itself, were not broad enough to take in the pro- 
scribed Jesuit and the devotee of Rome. Sidney, when 
advocating the noblest principles of civil and religious 
liberty, and conceding to all men as a natural right, 
freedom of conscience and worship, still seemed to 
make the same discrimination. In his " Apology," he 
says, he never failed to sustain the doctrines he avows 
*' against corrupt principles, arbitrary power, a-nd pope- 
r?/." The reason which influenced his mind, and the 
minds of others of the leading men of that age, was 
not one of narrow sectarian prejudice, but it was the 
consprehensive and conclusive reason, confirmed by 
past experience, that popery was absolutely inconsis- 
tent with freedom, and that its establishment must 
inevitably lead to the building up of despotism on the 
ruins of the English constitution. Popery, to Sidney, 
was in itself tyranny, and he opposed it with the 
same motives and views that he did the usurpation of 
Cromwell and the despotism of Charles II. 

It is not surprising that Sidney should have been a 
believer in the reality of the " Popish Plot," and the 
existence of a conspiracy, on the part of the Jesuits, 
to kill the king, and to elevate his brother, the Duke 
of York, a papist, to the throne. The belief was al- 
most unanimous all over England, though the plot 
was sustained by no better testimony than that of the 
infamous and perjured Titus Gates and his associates. 
The king himself professed to believe it, and if we are 



CHAPTER VI. 201 

to credit the testimony of the poet Dryden, no willing 
witness certainly against the Duke of York, or in fa« 
vor of the whigs, there was at the bottom of all this 
absurdity something of reality. In his Absalom and 
Achitophel, he says : — 

" Some truth there was, though mix't and brewed "with lies." 

Be this as it may, the Popish Plot served its turn, 
and contributed more than anything else to rouse the 
minds of the English nation against the succession of 
the Duke of York and even against the government over 
which the Duke was suspected of having too much 
influence. The king finding his Parliament refractory, 
and, in the language of Hume, " treading fast in the 
steps of the last Long Parliament," at length ventured 
to dissolve it, which was done ia January, 1679. 

A new Parliament was at once summoned. The 
friends of liberal principles throughout all England 
were aroused. A spirited and angry contest succeed- 
ed for members, such as had never yet been known 
since the foundation of the monarchy. The court 
engaged openly and warmly in this contest, and en- 
deavored to influence the elections, Sidney offered 
himself as a candidats for the borough of G-uildford, 
in Surry. The celebrated AVilliam Penn, then an 
active opponent of the arbitrary measures of the gov- 
ernment, was one of his most ardent partizans. Penn 
appeared on the hustings to encourage his friends in 
the support of Sidney. He was rudely interrupted 
by an officer of the crown, who unlawfully attempted 



202 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

to administer an oath to him, which neither the con- 
science nor the pride of the sturdy Quaker would 
suffer him to take. Penn Vv-as compelled to leave the 
court, and with many of his friends was prevented 
from voting. Other irregularities, equally gross, were 
practised, by means of which the opponent of Sidney 
was returned to the house. Penn subsequently wrote 
to Sidney, urging him to resist the outrage, and to 
present his claims in a petition to the House of Com- 
mons, which he did. The petition was referred to the 
committee of privileges and elections, but the matter 
was not acted upon, owing, probably, to the dissolu- 
tion of the Parliament soon after. 

Notwithstanding the efforts of the court, the new 
Parliament was more unmanageable than the old 
one. A decisive majority of its members were hostile 
to the Duke of York, and determined upon passing a 
bill to exclude him from the throne. The bill was 
introduced into the House of Commons, and passed 
that body. Its provisions were severe and highly 
penal, and exhibit very favorably the resolute spirit 
which actuated this Parliament. Sidney, in the cor- 
respondence which he kept up with his friend Saville, 
a^ Paris, speaks of the introduction and provisions of 
this bill, in a letter under date of May 19th, 1679 ; 

" The severe bill against the Duke of York was 
read on Thursday last, and is appointed to be read 
again to-morrow. It recites the Pope's pretensions to 
power over kings, particularly in England ; the im- 
morality of the Roman religion ; incompatibility of 



CIIAPTEll VI. 203 

those who profess it with English Protestants ; their 
perpetual plots against the government ; sedulity in 
seducing the duke, and a multitude of other things 
of like nature in the preamble ; asserts the poiver 
of Parliament to dispose of the succession, as best 
conducive to the good of the kingdom, which had 
been often exercised in debarring those that were 
nearest in blood, but never with so much rcison as 
now. "Wherefore it doth enact, ' that the duke should 
be, and was thereby, excluded ;' declares him attaint- 
ed of high treason, if he landed in England before or 
after the king's death ; forbids commerce or corres- 
pondence v/ith him under the same penalty of high 
treason." 

This bill passed the House of Commons by a ma- 
jority of seventy-nine, but was not brought to a vote 
in the House of Lords, the Parliament being soon 
after dissolved. By its provisions the success^' on was 
fixed in the next heir of the Duke of York, who was 
the Princess Mary, married to the Prince of Orange. 
The whigs, however, were divided in their views of 
the succession. A portion of them, and those who 
went farthest in support of liberal principles, favored 
James, Duke of Monmouth, a natural son of the 
king by Lucy Walters, a beautiful Welch girl, whom 
Charles had met in his exile at the Hague, and had 
made his mistress, but to whom it was now pretended 
he had been secretly married. To Sidney, the exclu- 
sion of the Duke of York at first seems to have been 
a matter of entire indifference. The firmness and 



204 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

consistency of his principles admitted no temporizing 
with monarchy. The free institutions toward which 
he looked, and that civil liberty for which he had 
struggled, were not to be attained merely by a 
change of rulers. He frankly declared it was indif- 
ferent to him whether James, Duke of York, or James, 
Duke of Monmouth, succeeded to the throne. It 
was, however, suggested to him, " that a prince with 
a defective title would be sure to govern well, con- 
sidering himself at the mercy of the hereditary 
claimant, if, by neglecting the interests, he should 
lose the affections of the people," This suggestion 
was not lost upon him. Sidney thenceforth labored 
to avert the fearful despotism which subsequently 
overtook England, in the accession to the throne of 
the bigoted and blood-thirsty tyrant James II. 

As between the Prince of Orange and Monmouth, 
Sidney's views during the agitation of the exclusion 
bill, were frankly expressed to Saville : — 

" The first hath plainly the most plausible title by 
his mother and his wife ; but besides the opinion of 
the influence it is believed the Duke of York would 
have over him, it is feared that the Commonwealth 
party in Holland would be so frighted with that, as to 
cast itself absolutely in the hands of the king of 
France, who might, thereby, have a fair occasion of 
ruining both England and Holland. I need not tell 
you the reasons ag-ainst Monmouth ; but the strongest 
1 hear alleged for him are, that whosoever is opposed 
to York, will have a good party ; and all Scotland, 



CHAPTER VI. 205 

which is every day likely to be in arms, doth certainly 
favor him, and may, probably, be of as much impor- 
tance in the troubles that are now likely to fall upon 
us as they were in the beginning of the last." 

It will be seen from this that Sidney was not a par- 
tizan of York, of Monmouth, or of the Prince of 
Orange, and really favored the pretensions of neither. 
Yet he deprecated the succession of the Duke of York 
as the greatest calamity that could befal his country. 
Monmouth he believed to be the most eligible candi- 
date to concentrate public opinion, and the whole 
strength of the friends of liberty, in opposition to the 
Duke ; and as a choice of evils, he therefore looked to 
Monmouth rather than the Prince of Orange, as the 
rival of James. But there is no evidence that Sidney 
favored monarchy even with the prospect of raising 
Monmouth to the throne, or, as we shall presently 
see, that such was the design of any conference he 
may have had with Russell, Hampden, and Essex, 
upon which the charge of treason w^as based against 
him. 

At this period, Charles being embarrassed by the 
importunities of the popular party, and having failed 
in his attempts to govern by his ministry, as a last 
resort availed himself of the counsels and well known 
abilities of Sidney's old friend and correspondent, Sir 
"William Temple. By the advice of Temple, the king 
consented to appoint a privy council of thirty mem- 
bers, by whose assistance he was to carry on the gov- 
ernment. Many eminent members of the country 



206 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

party were appointed, and, among others, the Lords 
Russell and Essex. Shaftesbury, then at the height of 
his popularity, was named president. Of this council 
four members were charged with the chief authority, 
and formed a sort of privy council or cabinet ; these 
w^ere Temple and Essex, and Sidney's relatives, Hali- 
fax and Sunderland. 

The expedient, however, proved unsuccessful. 
Charles broke his pledged word to take no important 
step without the advice of his council. Alarmed at 
the progress of the exclusion bill, and the bold tone of 
the leaders of the opposition, he first prorogued, and 
then dissolved the Parliament, not only without the 
advice, but without the knowledge of his council. 
The dissatisfaction occasioned by the first of thess 
steps is thus noticed by Sidney in a letter of June 2d, 
1679, to Saville : 

" No man will avow having been the king's coun- 
sellor in this business ; and some wonder that his 
majesty, having promised, in constituting the privy 
council, that he would in all things follow their ad- 
vices next unto those of the Parliament, should so 
suddenly prorogue that great council without so much 
as asking the other. This fills men's minds with 
many ill humors ; the Parliament men go down dis- 
contented, and are likely, by their reports, to add unto 
the discontents of the counties which are already very 
great ; and the fears from the Papists at home, and 
their friends abroad, being added thereunto, they be^ 
gin to look more than formerly into the means of p^- 



I 



CHAPTER VI. 207 

serving themselves. Some, that know matters better 
than I do, must tell you whether we shall have the 
same Parliament at the end of the prorogation, or a 
new one, or none at all ; but I think this or another 
will be found necessary ; and if this be dissolved, 
another will be chosen of less inclination tofavo?' the 
courts 

Sidney's prediction was abundantly verified. A 
new Parliament was summoned early in the following 
year, and a large majority of the opposition were re- 
turned to the House of Commons. Sidney was again a 
candidate, this time from the borough of Bramber in 
Sussex, and again was he zealously sustained by the 
influence of his friend William Penn. Sir John Fagg 
and Sir John Temple also warmly aided at the polls. 
The feeling of the electors was strongly enlisted in his 
behalf, and his friends confidently predicted his suc- 
cess. The court once more interfered by means of 
Sir John Pelham, who exerted all his influence in 
favor of Sidney's younger brother Henry, then on a 
mission in Holland. The polls closed with a double 
return. Sidney thought himself duly elected, and 
claimed his seat in the House. Still, when the Parlia- 
ment met, in October, 1680, after repeated proroga- 
tions, his election was declared void. 

While the question was still undecided, and indeed 
soon after the election, Sidney wrote to Saville express- 
ing his doubt as to the result : 

" I am not able to give so much as a, guess whether 
the Parliament shall sit the 26th of January or not, 



208 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

there being a double return ; and nothing can be as- 
sured until the question arising thereupon be deter- 
mined ; unless it be that as I and my principles are 
out of fashion^ my inclination going' one way^ my 
friendship and alliance ivitli those that are like to 
give occasion for the greatest contests, draioing 
another, I shall be equally disliked and suspected by 
both parties, and thereby become the most inconsider- 
able member of the House." 

He alludes here, doubtless, to his intercourse and 
family connexion with such men as Sunderland, and 
Saville's brother, Halifax, with whose principles he 
was widely at variance. Halifax, by his genius and 
eloquence in the House of Lords, subsequently defeat- 
ed the Exclusion bill in that same Parliament, and 
thus rendered the most vital service to a cause which 
the sterner principles of Sidney never permitted him to 
favor, and to a government which he despised. Sid- 
ney well observed in this letter, that he and his prin- 
ciples were out of fashion ; he might have added, that 
he had become an object of suspicion and enmity to 
the government, and that his presuming to aspire to a 
seat in Parliament was considered as an act of the 
highest effrontery. It is quite apparent that long 
before his arrest the government had resolved on his 
ruin, and that a decent pretext only was wanted to 
accomplish it. Even his most trivial actions were 
laid hold of and magnified into crimes. For no greater 
offence than looking from a balcony in London, at 
a w^arm contest between the court and people in the 



CHAPTER VI. 209 

election of sheriff, he was indicted for a riot. It was 
attempted to involve him in a pretended conspiracy of 
the non-conformist to murder the king and exclude 
the royal family. Sidney, on this occasion, appeared 
before the king in person, and proved to the natural 
good sense of Charles, that there neither w^as nor 
could be anything of that nature. The principal in- 
former of the " Meal Tub Plot,'' in which it was 
designed to involve Sidney, was the vagabond Danger- 
field. This man, however, when summoned to the 
bar of the House, seemed all at once to change sides, 
and instead of implicating the Presbyterians, to throw 
the odium upon the Papists. Sidney mentions in a let- 
ter to Saville, that Dangerfield declared positively, at 
the bar of the Commons, " that the Duke of York 
had offered him a great sum of money to kill the 
king. He also said that the Lord Privy Seal Peter- 
borough, and Sir Robert Payton were contrivers of the 
' Meal Tub Plot.' " 

The judgment of Charles seems to have been supe- 
rior to all these clumsy contrivances, and he never 
appears to have seriously feared assassination. There 
was good sense, as well as wit, in the remark he play- 
fully made to his brother, the Duke of York : " Be- 
lieve me, James, nobody will kill me to make you 
king." A plan for his assassination, and perhaps the 
only one ever seriously entertained, was concert- 
ed during the Commonwealth, long before Charles 
came to the throne, and Sidney himself was the 
means of preventing its execution. It was no idle 



210 ALGERNON SmNEY. 

boast of his, therefore, when he said, " I think I did 
once save his majesty's life." How the obligation 
was repaid will presently be seen. 

The new Parliament was found still more refractory, 
and even revolutionary, than the old. The discontent 
of the nation at the arbitrary government of Charles, 
and particularly at the possibility of a Popish successor 
in the person of his brother James, whose principles 
were as odious as his conduct was tyrannical, mani- 
fested itself in the most determined opposition. Parties 
seemed to be preparing for a struggle similar to that 
which twenty years before convulsed the nation. 
Within a week after the assembling of Parliament 
the Exclusion bill was again introduced. The chiefs 
of the popular party — Sidney's friends, Sir "William 
Jones, Russell, and Hampden — rallied in support of it. 
It pa«!sed the Commons by a great majority. When 
the bill came to the House of Lords, it received the 
powerful support of Shaftesbury, Sunderland, and 
Essex ; the debate was spun out till a late hour of 
the night in presence of the king ; Halifax opposed 
the bill, and brought all his consummate ability and 
his masterly eloquence to the aid of the court, and 
with the most triumphant success ; on the final vote, 
the bill was rejected by a considerable majority. The 
disappointment of the popular party was keen and 
deep. It manifested itself in open resentment. The 
House of Commons refused to vote subsidies for the 
king. Charles, driven almost to despair, humbly 
begged of them a supply, alleging as a pretext, that 



CHAPTER VI. 211 

it was necessary to meet the danger which threatened 
Tangier. The house replied that it was better that 
Tangier fell into the hands of the King of Fez, than 
serve to discipline Papist troops. The spirit of John 
Hampden seemed to animate his grandson, who boldly 
avowed in his place, that " the Duke of York is 
Admiral of Tangier, and therefore we prefer that 
Tangier be abandoned." Alarmed at the determined 
temper exhibited in the Parliament, the king re- 
solved to dissolve it ; yet, at the very moment of its 
dissolution, the House was engaged in passing some 
spirited resolutions and acts, which proved that it was 
fully determined never to abandon the position it had 
assumed. 



CHAPTER VII. 



dissolved — Proclamation of the King — Pamphlet of Sidney in reply — 
Prosecution of College — Shaftesbury— His charai^ter — His connection 
with the popu.iar party — His quarrel with Sidney — Lord Howard and 
the Duke of Monmouth — Sidney introduced to the duke by a fraud of 
Howard — Sidney's intercourse with Monmouth, Russel, Essex, and 
Hampden — Nature of the conferences between the patriots — Council 
of six — Sidney's connection with it — The Rye-house plot — The con- 
spirators betrayed to the government — Rumors of Sidney's connection 
with it — Arrest of the conspirators — Sidney arrested — His conduct 
before the council — Committed to the Tower — Is waited upon by a 
conmiittee to be examined — Refuses to answer questions — Efforts to 
obtain evidence against him — Arrest of Lord Howard — He turns 
king's evidence — Trial and execution of Lord Russell — His life and 
character — Death of Essex — The court resolves to bring Sidney to 
trial — Hampden tried for a misdemeanor and convicted — Preparations 
for the trial of Sidney — Difficulties in the way of his conviction. 

The implacable and narrow-minded James coun- 
selled his brother to adopt severe and arbitrary mea- 
sures. Immediately after the dissolution he wrote to 
him : " The moment is come to be truly king, or to 
perish; 'no more Parliaments;' it is to France ^ou 
must have recourse for subsidies." Charles, however, 



CHAPTEIi YII. 213 

for once disregarded the advice, and summoned a new 
Parliament at Oxford. Notwithstanding the efforts of 
the court, most of the popular members were returned, 
and the same speaker was elected. Thousands of 
citizens followed the London deputies to Oxford, armed, 
and bearing ribbons on their hats, with the device, 
'"'no slavery^''' ^^ no popery.^'^ The king took a firm 
attitude on opening the Parliament, but declared his 
attachment to the relioion and constitution of the 

a 

state. The Commons replied, reiterating their demand 
that the bill excluding the Duke of York should be 
accepted as the first condition of a truce between 
them and the throne. A session of a few brief and 
stormy days satisfied the king that this Parliament 
was, if possible, still more rebellious and unmanage- 
able than the last ; he hastily dissolved it, and retired 
with his whole retinue to London. 

It was on this occasion, in March 1681, that 
Charles issued a proclamation justifying his conduct, 
and assigning reasons for dissolving the last two Par- 
liaments. To this declaration a spirited answer 
appeared, entitled " A Just and Modest Vindication of 
the Proceedings of the two last Parliaments." The 
answer was from the pen of Sidney, revised and cor- 
rected by Sir William Jones. Bishop Burnet says of 
this pamphlet that for "spirit and true judgment, it 
was the best written paper of the times." Sidney 
charges the Duke of York with advising the dissolu- 
tion of the Parliament ; with being at the head of the 
popish faction ; with favoring the designs of Louis 



214 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

XIV.5 by encouraging traitors and pensioners; with 
endeavoring to reign without Parliaments, and intro- 
duce the popish religion ; with betraying the secrets 
of state to Barillon, the French ambassador, who knew 
of the intended dissolution of Parliament three days 
bejore it was known to the peers at Oxford, by which 
means the time of dissolving the Parliament was 
known sooner in Paris than in London ; and he ob- 
serves — " G-ood Grod ! to what a condition is this 
kingdom reduced, when the ministers 'and agents of 
the only prince in the world who can have designs 
against us, or of whom we ought to be afraid, are not 
only made acquainted with the most secret passages 
of state, but are made our chief ministers, too, and 
have the principal conduct of our affairs. And let the 
world judge if the Commons had not reason for their 
vote, when they declared those eminent persons who 
manage things at this rate, to be enemies to the king 
and kingdom, and promoters of the French interests." 
This paper, able though it was, and convincing, 
had but little effect. Indeed a strong reaction seemed 
to have taken place, and the dissolution of the Parlia- 
ment at Oxford, and the manifesto of the king, all at 
once, and most unaccountably, turned to the profit of 
the court. The strength of the exclusionists was 
divided, if not broken, and the resolute front which 
Charles showed his opponents, seemed to indicate that 
he had taken the duke's advice, and like his father 
was resolved to attempt to carry on the government 
without Parliaments. 



CHAPTEE VII. 215 

Emboldened by success, the court party strove 
to retaliate with a heavy hand upon their enemies. 
A noisy whig, named College, was arrested as a con- 
spirator against the life of the king ; but a London 
grand jury, being summoned by whig sheriffs, re- 
fused to indict him. College was then removed to 
Oxford, where he was indicted, tried, convicted, and 
executed. The next object of the vengeance of the 
court was a more formidable enemy — the celebrated, 
and infamous as celebrated. Earl of Shaftesbury. 
The earl was arrested and committed to the tower, 
but a London grand jury again stood resolutely, and 
this time successfully, between the throne and its 
intended victim. 

This veteran politician was one of the most singu- 
lar characters of the period in w^hich he lived, and, as 
his history is somewhat connected with that of Sidney 
and his friends, we may interrupt the narrative a 
moment to glance at it. Grifted w^ith a brilliant but 
versatile mind — devoured with a fierce ambition — a 
consummate but most unscrupulous politician, utterly 
devoid of principle and moral feeling. Sir Anthony 
Ashley Cooper was emphatically the Talleyrand of his 
age. The pen of the poet Dryden has admirably 
sketched the character of this celebrated statesman, 
under the name of Achitophel^ in a satire that will 
last as long as the English language is spoken : 

" Of these the false Achitophel was tirst, 
A name to all succeeding ages cursed. 
For close designs and crooked counsels fit: 



216 ALGEKXON SIDNEY. 

Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit; 
Restless, unfixt in principles and place, 
la power unpleased, ini patient of disgrace ; 
A fiery soul, which working out its way, 
Fretted the pigmy body to decay. 
And o'er informed the tenement of clay. 
A daring pilot in extremity ; 

Pleased with the danger when the waves went high ; 
He sought the storms ; but for a calm unfit, 
Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit. 
^ ^< * # * 

In friendship false, implacable in hate, 
Resolved to ruin or to rule the state, 
To compass this the triple bond he broke ; 
The pillars of the public safety shook, 
And fitted Israel for a foreign yoke. 
Then seized with fear, yet still affecting fame, 
Usurped a patriot's all atoning name," &c. 

Ashley Cooper h-dd been deeply implicated in all 
the political intrigues of the day, and had figured 
conspicuously in the affairs of the Commonwealth 
under the Protector. He had alternately served and 
betrayed all parties, and so well-timed was his treach- 
ery upon every change of administration, that it uni- 
versally redounded to his own advantage. 

In early youth he had been a royalist. When 
the cause of the king began to wane, he turned Pres- 
byterian and patriot, and joined the Parliament. His 
keen eye saw at a glance that Cromwell was the rising 
star ; and on the dissolution of the Long Parliament, 
he separated himself from the republicans and ad- 
hered to the fortunes of the lord-general. "With his 
fellow- traitor, G-en. Monk, the future Duke of Albe- 



CHAPTER vn. 217 

marie, he was a member of Cromwell's " Barebone 
Parliament ;" and from this period his fortune may- 
be dated. Here he obsequiously followed the nod of 
the dictator, and performed for him various important 
services — among others, introducing a bill to abolish 
the forms of the Commonwealth, by annulling the 
engagement " to be true and faithful to the Common- 
wealth of England, as then established without king 
or House of Lords ;" the bill was rejected only to 
be renewed and carried in a subsequent Parliament 
summoned by the Protector. This statesman, so un- 
scrupulous and subtle-minded, was yet a profound 
and able lawyer. He was made a member of the 
celebrated commission appointed by the " Barebone 
Parliament," to codify and remodel the whole body 
of the English statute and common law ! Sir Ashley 
Cooper was then a radical reformer, and, of course, a 
most active and influential member of the commission ; 
but it seems to have met with no better success than 
has attended the labors of a similar commission in 
more modern times.* He was also an effective 
instrument in the dissolution of this Parliament and 
the elevation of Cromwell to the Protectorship. For 
these services he was rewarded with a seat in the 
council of state in the new government, and subse- 
quently was appointed by the Protector lord chancellor 
of England. It may be mentioned as one of the 
most curious instances of Sir Ashley Cooper's versa- 

* The author alludes to the commission to codify the laws, appoint- 
ed pursuant to the new constitution of the State of New York. 

10 



218 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

tility of character and accomplishments, that he was 
ready to perform any service, secular or religious, 
assigned him. Thus his name is found in connection 
with those of the Presbyterian divines, Owen and 
Baxter, in the commissions appointed by Cromwell's 
government to examine the clergy, and to eject scan- 
dalous and ignorant clergymen from the ministry ! 
And yet, this man who thus 

" Groaned, sighed, and prayed, while godliness was gain," 

afterwards became the corrupt and facile minister of 
the licentious Charles II. 

No one saw with clearer perception, or keener 
glance, the true nature of the reaction which fol- 
lowed the abdication of the Protector Richard Crom- 
well, and the re-assembling of the Long Parliament. 
With Gen. Monk, he was among the first to turn 
renegade to the Commonwealth, and the most zealous 
for the Ptestoration. Charles IL, on coming to the 
throne, rewarded these disinterested services by be- 
stowing on him the title. Lord Ashley, and appointing 
him a member of his first council of state. But the 
measure of Cooper's infamy was filled by his con- 
senting to act as one of the commissioners appointed 
to try the regicides, and others excepted by the act 
of Parliament. In this station he sat in judgment on 
men with whom he had formerly acted, and who 
were not more guilty of treason than he ; and among 
others, his old associates in the counsels of Cromwell, 
Carew and O-en. Harrison. Charles rewarded the 



CHAPTEK vn. 219 

venal courtier for these and similar services, by- 
creating him Earl of Shaftesbury, and afterwards 
raising him to the dignity of lord chancellor. It is 
remarkable, says the historian Hume, that this man, 
whose principles and conduct were in all other re- 
spects so exceptionable, proved an excellent chan- 
cellor ; and that all his decrees, while he possessed 
that high office, w^ere equally remarkable for justness 
and for integrity. A more noble and manly tribute 
is paid to this redeeming feature in Shaftesbury's 
career by the same poetic pen whose keen satire we 
have just quoted : — 

" Yet fame deserved no enemy can grudge, 
The statesman we abhor, but praise the judge. 
In Israel's courts ne'er sat an Abethdin 
With more discerning eyes, or hands more clean, 
Unbribed, unbought, the wretched to redress ; 
Swift of despatch, and easy of access. 
Oh ! had he been content to serve the crown, 
With virtues only proper to the gown, 
Or had the rankness of the soil been freed 
From cockle that oppress'd the noble seed, 
David for him his tuneful harp had strung, 
And heaven had wanted one immortal song." 

The genius and tact of Shaftesbury during the first 
years of Charles' administration were thrown entirely 
in favor of the court and the royal authority. In 
1670, he became one of the five ministers of the king, 
known by the name of the " Cabal," and in this posi- 
tion he applied all his energies to the service of his 
master in upholding the royal prerogative, and in re- 



220 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

ducing the people to subjection. A few years brought 
about another change. Shaftesbury, anticipating the 
fall of his party, betrayed the king and the court, as he 
had betrayed the Parliament and the Commonwealth. 
He arose in his place, in the House of Lords, and to 
the astonishment of all, vehemently opposed one of his 
colleagues in the Cabal, the Lord Treasurer Clifford, 
who had made an intemperate speech in opposition to 
some measure advocated by the country party, and 
levelled at the court, especially at the Duke of 
York. The king and the duke were both spectators of 
the debate. " What a knave of a chancellor have 
you there ?" said the latter as he left the House. 
" And you, brother," answered the king, " what a 
fool of a treasurer have you given me." 

From this period Shaftesbury sided with the popu- 
lar party, and in the language of Dryden : — 

" Usurped a patriot's all atoning name." 

So vehement and dreaded was his opposition to the 
court that the king dismissed him from his office of 
chancellor. In 1677, he made himself still more obnox- 
ious by denying the legality of a Parliament assembled 
by the king. For this offence he was arrested and sent 
to the tower, where, after a year's confinement, he 
was released on his promised submission. On the rise 
of the country party, Shaftesbury again appeared upon 
the surface. In the council which Charles called 
around him on the advice of Sir "William Temple, he 
was made president, to the unbounded joy and satis- 



CHAPTER VII. 221 

faction of the populace. "With the early fall of that 
council, Shaftesbury again fell, and at once entered 
deeply into the confidence and intrigues of the Duke 
of Monmouth, whom he flattered with the hopes of 
succeeding to the crown. The most constant pas- 
sions of this able and daring man were hatred and 
resentment. Dryden who truly described him as the 
pilot 

" Pleased with the clanger when the waves went high," 

described him also truly as a man " implacable in 
hate." His hatred to the Duke of York was a passion 
which never deserted him. Soon after his removal by 
the king as President of the Council, Shaftesbury had 
the audacity to appear in Westminster Hall, with Lord 
Russell and other leaders of the popular party, and 
present the duke to the grand jury of Middlesex as a 
popish recusant. The chief justice, in alarm, sud- 
denly dismissed the jury, but Shaftesbury accom- 
plished his end by showing that between him, with 
his friends of the popular party, and the duke, all 
accommodation was impossible. From this time he 
was constantly engaged in violent opposition to the 
court, and in plots against the government. Commit- 
ted a second time to the tower, the court, as we have 
seen, attempted to indict him on a charge of treason ; 
but a whig grand jury threw out the indictment, and 
the prisoner was released amid the acclamations of the 
citizens of London. This was in 1681. Soon after 
the king was seized with a dangerous sickness. Shaftes- 



222 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

bury, who had then become deeply implicated in the 
projects of the Duke of Monmouth, entered into a 
conspiracy to rise in arms in case of the king's death, 
and oppose the succession of the Duke of York. The 
king recovered. The arbitrary proceedings of the 
court against the city of London resulted in reducing 
the metropolis to submission. The whig sheriffs were 
turned out of office. No obstacle now remained to 
Shaftesbury's indictment. He lurked about the city 
of London in secrecy. He vainly endeavored to urge 
upon Lords Essex, Russell and G-rey, his plan for a 
general insurrection to dethrone the king and to crown 
the Duke of Monmouth. Disappointed on all sides, 
disgusted with the inactivity of the chiefs of the 
popular party, alarmed at the impending danger of his 
situation, he suddenly quitted England and retired 
into Holland, where he soon after died in exile and 
obscurity.^ 

We have seen that Shaftesbury resolutely attempted 
to draw into his own plans for a conspiracy, Mon- 
mouth, Essex, Russell, and Grrey, but without success. 
Hitherto, Sidney had kept entirely aloof from the 
councils of the conspirators. His personal distrust 
and dislike of Shaftesbury were open and unconcealed. 
From the time that the earl had accused him of being 
a spy of Sunderland to the day of Shaftesbury's volun- 

* Lord John Russell is of the opinion that many of the charges 
brought against Shaftesbury were unfounded, and that much injustice 
has been done his character. See his reflections on Shaftesbury in the 
" Life of Lord William Russell." 



CHAPTEB vn. 223 

tary banishment, he had refused to have any inter- 
course with him. With Monmouth he was entirely 
unacquainted. A friend of Sidney, Lord Howard of 
Escrick, a man of a worthless character and corrupt 
principles, caused Sidney and Monmouth to meet, by 
pretending to Sidney that the duke was desirous to 
dine with him, and to Monmouth that Sidney wished 
to meet him but had a delicacy in courting his ac- 
quaintance. This fraud of Howard succeeded, and 
Sidney met the Duke of Monmouth. With the ambi- 
tious projects of the duke, Sidney had no connection 
and no sympathy. It was immaterial to him whether 

Monmouth or York succeeded to the crown so far as 
the question of royalty was concerned ; but York was 

intimately associated with the idea of popery and 
absolute power, and with Monmouth the main hope of 
popular liberty seemed to rest. Sidney, therefore, did 
not hesitate, after Shaftesbury's departure, to enter 
into intimate and confidential counsel with Mon- 
mouth's friends upon the best means of averting the 
public dangers, and of defending the liberties and 
constitutional rights of his countrymen against the in- 
sidious and arbitrary measures of the court. 

With Monmouth himself Sidney never was intimate. 
Up to the period of his arrest, he had spoken to him, 
he says, but three times in his life. With the noble- 
minded Russell, with Essex, a sincere and ardent lover 
of liberty, and with Hampden, he w^as upon terms of 
friendship. To the councils of these men, Monmouth 
after he had been released from his connection with 



224 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

Shaftesbury, committed himself, and there is no evi- 
dence, certainly none worthy of credit, that anything 
treasonable on the part of any of them had been 
meditated or resolved upon, at least after the de- 
parture of Shaftesbury. That nobleman, just previous 
to his leaving England, had so far implicated Russell 
and Essex, as to procure an interview between them 
and two of his creatures, Rumsey and Ferguson, at 
the house of a wine merchant, named Shepherd ; and 
subsequently, Shaftesbury himself met Essex and 
another of the conspirators at the same place, where 
the plan of an insurrection was discussed, and the 
project of surprising the king's guards mentioned. 
This evidence given against Russell on his trial was 
fatal to that nobleman, and led to his conviction. 
Sidney, however, was entirely unconnected with, and 
ignorant of the conspiracy, (if indeed it is deserv- 
ing the name,) until after the soul of the intrigue, 
Shaftesbury, whom he so heartily despised, had left 
England. 

What was the precise nature of the conferences be- 
tween Sidney and his friends, and what was in reality 
the object of their meetings, it is difficult to sa}^ 
The evidence rests almost exclusively on the oath of the 
ingrate and triator, Lord Howard, whom Sidney had 
so indiscreetly admitted to his confidence. Howard 
pretended in the testimony which he gave on Sidney's 
trial, (of which we shall speak more in detail here- 
after) that a " council of six" was formed to conduct 
an " enterprise, "the nature of which he does not ex- 



CHAPTER vn. 225 

plain ; that this council consisted of the Duke of 
Monmouth, the Lords Essex and Russell, Col. Sidney, 
Mr. Hampden and himself ; that two meetings only 
were held at which Sidney was present — one at the 
house of Hampden, and the other at Lord Russell's ; 
that at the latter meetinsf there seemed to be a diver- 
sity of sentiment, occasioned by a remark of Hampden 
as to the object and design of the " enterprise ;" that 
at this conference the Duke spoke of raising the sum 
of thirty thousand pounds, and Sidney proposed a 
messenger, one Aaron Smith, to be sent with a letter, 
written, as Howard helieved^ by Lord Russell, into 
Scotland.^ This is the substance of the direct testi- 
mony which connects Sidney with this " conpsiracy" 
for a general insurrection to overthrow the govern- 
ment and kill the kins^. It will be observed that the 
whole of Howard's statements might be taken as true, 
without making out a case to convict either of the so 
called conspirators of high treason. No plan of action 
was agreed upon, no design was formed, no definite 
object was proposed to be accomplished ; the conspira- 
tors separated, having done nothing, and agreed upon 
nothing ; Russell and Hampden to indulge their warm 
aspirations for the triumph of liberty under the an- 
cient forms of the constitution ; Sidney and Essex 
to speculate upon the practicability of a commonwealth; 

* Howard also testifies that at a conference between himself, jNIon- 
mouth and Sidney, which was doubtless the first interview ever had 
between them, at the day of the dinner, that Monmouth undertook to 
bring over Lord Russell, and Sidney to engage Essex and Hampden in 
the enterprize. 



226 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

and Monmouth to dream of his succession to the 
throne. 

In the meantime a wilder and more desperate band 
of conspirators- — the creatures of Shaftesbury — were 
engaged in planning what was afterwards more fami- 
liarly known as the " Rye-house Plot." Of these 
subordinate conspirators, the principal were Col. Rum- 
sey, an old republican officer, West, a lawyer, Keeling, 
a Salter, Ferguson and Rumbold. Their design was, 
undoubtedly, insurrection. The project of assassinat- 
ing the king and the Duke of York, and of thus mak- 
ing way for Monmouth to the throne, was freely dis- 
cussed among them ; and it is said that Monmouth 
and Howard were not ignorant of the existence of this 
subordinate conspiracy and of their wild designs, 
though it is not pretended that the knowledge was 
shared by any others of the " Council of six." Rum- 
bold had a farm called the Rye-house, on the road to 
Newmarket, whither the king and the duke com- 
monly went for diversion once a year. The project 
was discussed among the conspirators of stopping the 
king's coach at this place, and of assassinating him 
and the duke ; but it does not appear that this wicked 
and desperate scheme was ever fully resolved on. 
The whole plot, however, was soon betrayed to the 
government by Keiling, one of the conspirators. The 
secretary of state paid little regard to it, till West 
and Rumsey offered to purchase their worthless lives 
by turning king's evidence, and fully corroborated in 
every particular the story of Keiling. When Rumsey 



CHAPTER VII. 227 

surrendered himself as a witness (who, it will be re-' 
membered, had been present with Ferguson at the first 
meeting at Shepherd's) the Duke of Monmouth at 
once took the alarm, and retired froni England. The 
city was now full of rumors. Sidney's name was in 
every coffee house as connected with the plot. He 
was informed that the government meditated his 
arrest, and on inquiring the reason, was told of the 
allegations made by these men, v/ith not one of whom 
he had the slightest acquaintance. Sidney disbelieved 
the report ; but his informant urged upon him that an 
occasion would certainly be found to arrest him, and 
that if once arrested he could not possibly escape con- 
viction from such judges and juries as the court was 
determined to employ. But Sidney, conscious of his 
own innocence, disregarded the admonition, and de- 
termined to remain where he was, even after he heard 
that the Duke of Monmouth had retired. 

West and Keiling could give no evidence against 
any of the Council of six. Rumsey was, with diffi- 
culty, brought to mention the meeting at Shepherd's, 
at which Russell and Essex attended. Shepherd was 
arrested and confirmed the account ; yet against Sid- 
ney and Hampden there was no evidence, except 
vague reports, or such loose information as Rumsey 
himself had gained from Monmouth and Howard, or 
such statements as he chose wilfully to fabricate. 
The government, however, determined to arrest all the 
pretended conspirators. Monmouth had taken timely 
flight, G-ray escaped from his guards. Essex, Russell, 



228 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

and Hampden were thrown into prison, and Howard 
hinnself was seized while attempting to conceal him- 
self in a chimney. 

On the morning of Sidney's arrest, the 26th June, 
1683, he was engaged in his usual studies, and in 
receiving the visits of his friends. So entirely con- 
scious was he of his own personal innocence, and so 
far removed did he feel himself to be from every thing 
that could implicate him in a plot against the king, 
knowing the prudence that had kept him aloof from 
all intercourse and conversation with those who were 
disaffected to the government, save the friends in 
whose honor he confided, that he entertained no ap- 
prehensions for his own safety. While at dinner on 
that day, he was arrested by an order from the Privy 
Council in the king's name. Soon after a second 
order arrived to secure his papers. After ransacking 
the house and finding nothing in any place of con- 
cealm.ent, the officer took into his possession some 
manuscripts which lay upon the table, and in an open 
trunk beside it. Sidney was desired to put his seal on 
the packet after it was enclosed, but he refused, re- 
membering, as he says, " what had passed on a similar 
occasion, and not knowing what might have been put 
in." The ofiRcer thereupon put his own seal to the 
package, and promised Sidney that it should not be 
opened except in his presence. This was the last he ever 
saw of the papers until their production on his trial. 

On being brought before the privy council, Sidney 
answered some of the questions put to him "respect- 



CHAPTEE VII. 229 

fully and without deceit ;" but on being further 
pressed, he replied, that "if they had any proof 
against him he was ready to vindicate his conduct, but 
that otherwise he would not fortify their evidence." 
Although there was not the shadow of evidence 
against him beyond vague rumors and hearsay, and 
nothing whatever to justify his imprisonment, he was 
arbitrarily committed to the tower on a charge of high 
treason ! 

For some time Sidney was kept a close prisoner. 
His money, and other property, even to his w^earing 
apparel, were seized. His friends were not permitted 
to see him, and his servants prevented from carrying 
him a change of linen. Even his faithful servant, 
Joseph Ducasse, was denied access to him, until, ap- 
plying to Lord Halifax, he obtained a reluctant per- 
mission to attend and visit him. So rigorous was his 
confinement, that it began to affect his health, but he 
bore up under it with unflinching fortitude and spirit. 
The government was no doubt satisfied of the unlaw- 
fulness of his imprisonment, and of the weakness of 
its evidence ; but determining to bring him to the 
scaffold, it employed various artifices to procure the 
requisite testimony. A committee of the privy coun- 
cil waited upon him in the tower, hoping to derive 
matter of accusation from his own confessions. Sid- 
ney answered haughtily, and with more than his natu- 
ral acerbity of temper, that " they seemed to want 
evidence, and were come to draw it from his own 
mouth ; but they should have nothing from him." It 



230 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

is stated, and doubtless with truth, that the prisons 
were ransacked, and threats and persuasions employed 
among the prisoners to induce them to furnish evi- 
dence against him. Aaron Smith, the messenger 
whom Howard alleged had been sent into Scotland by- 
Sidney, and who was now in custody, on being tam- 
pered with by some of the agents of the government, 
who desired Smith to propose his own terms for reveal- 
ing testimony which might suit their purpose, frankly 
replied, " that he could not say anything that would 
touch a hair of Col. Sidney's head." The same poor 
success met the efforts of the court in other quarters. 
At length, however, a witness appeared. 

The notorious Howard had been arrested on the 8th 
of July. Overcome by the fear of death, the craven 
wretch did not hesitate to follow the base example of 
Rumsey, West, and Keiling, and to purchase his life 
by offering his evidence against the illustrious prisoners 
in the tower. Some of the " Rye-house" conspirators 
were convicted on the evidence of the three informers. 
West, Rumsey, and Keiling, and were executed the 
20th of July. The court, however, was not satisfied 
with this puny vengeance, but resolved upon the 
sacrifice of noble victims. Accordingly, about the 
same time. Lord Russell was brought to trial. With 
the aid of the testimony of Howard, before a court 
and a jury entirely under the royal influence, Russell 
was easily convicted and condemned. His wife, 
daughter of the Earl of Southampton, threw herself 
at the king's feet, and pleaded in vain for pardon. 



CHAPTER YII. 231 

Once condemned, such a victim was too agreeable to 
the court, and particularly to the vindictive feelings 
of the Duke of York, whose resolute enemy he had 
always been, to expect mercy. The pardon was re- 
fused him. The touching scene in the tower — the 
parting of the condemned from his devoted wife and 
infant children, nearly overcame the manly fortitude 
of the prisoner ; but he quickly recovered it, and as he 
turned away after the last embrace, he exclaimed, 
*' The bitterness of death is now past." For him the 
scaffold and the block had no terrors. On the 21st of 
July, 1683, Russell w^as beheaded in Lincoln's Inn 
fields. He died in the forty-second year of his age."^ 

* Lord Russell, whose name is so gloriously associated with that of 
Sidney, was the third, and only surviving son of the Duke of Bedford, 
and was heir to the most splendid fortune in the kingdom. Bishop 
Burnet observes that he was a man of a slow but a sound understanding. 
Even his enemies admitted the sincerity of his character, his unim- 
peachable private worth, and the purity of his motives. His political 
sentiments were liberal in the extreme, but, like those of Hampden, not 
revolutionary. He desired to preserve the ancient forms of the monar- 
chy, but to establish constitutional liberty on its broadest basis ; and he 
therefore opposed with all the energy of his nature the Duke of York, 
and zealously labored to exclude him from the throne. Russell had 
represented the county of Bedford in all the parliaments of Charles II. ; 
and so great was his influence, and so wide-spread his popularity among 
all classes of the people, that he was justly regarded as the head of the 
liberal party. We have seen that he was one of the council appointed 
by the king at the recommendation of Sir W. Temple. He accom- 
panied Shaftesbury to Westminster Hall when that nobleman presented 
the Duke of York to the grand jury as a Popish recusant; and a few 
months after he carried up the Exclusion bill to the House of Lords at 
the head of two hundred members of Parliament. The proof of treason, 
on his trial, was confined to the interviews at Shepherd's and elsewhere, 



232 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

On the very day of Rnssell's trial, Essex was found 
dead, with his throat cut, in the tower. He was a 
man of elevated and estimable character, whose 
views of popular liberty coincided nearer with Sid- 
ney's than with' those of any of his other associates. 
The only remaining members of the Council of six, 
who remained in the power of the king, were Sidney 
and Hampden, and it was determined to bring them 
to trial. The difficulty attending the procuring of evi- 
dence sufficient to convict them, was a formidable ob- 
stacle, and long delayed the proceeding. Howard was 
indeed ready to swear away the lives of his other 
associates, as he had done the life of Russell ; but 
the crown lawyers were aware that the single and 
unsupported oath of such a witness was hazardous in 
any criminal case, unless with a jury composed en- 
tirely of the creatures of the court. Besides, another 
difficulty, almost insuperable, existed. By the statute 
of treasons, under which it was proposed to indict the 
prisoners, there could be no conviction unless on the 

already spoken of, and the law was shamefully perverted to his destruc- 
tion. Hume himself admits the proof to have been " that the insurrec- 
tion had been deliberated on by the prisoner ; the surprisal of the 
guards deliberated, but not fully resolved upon ; and that the assassi- 
nation of the king had not been once mentioned or imagined by him.'' 
The best authorities concur in the opinion that his condemnation wa? 
illegal, and it was on this ground that his attainder was subsequently re- 
versed by act of Parliament, Russell's nobleness of mind was exhibit 
ed to the last in his declining the generous offer of his friend Lord 
Cavendish, to favor his escape by exchanging clothes ; and also the pro- 
posal of the Duke of Monmouth to deliver himself up if he thought 
the step would be serviceable to him. " It will be no advantage to 
me," he said, "to have my friends die with me." 



CHAPTER VII. 233 

oaths of two concurring witnesses to some overt act. 
In the case of Hampden, it was found impossible to 
obviate this difficulty, as Howard was the only wit- 
ness who could in the slightest degree implicate him. 
Yet, even Hampden could not entirely escape the ven- 
geance of the court, or rather of the Dulce of York. 
After some length of time he was tried for a mis- 
demeanor, convicted on the testimony of Howard, 
and sentenced to pay a ruinous fine — no less than 
forty thousand pounds sterling. His whole fortune 
was insufficient for this purpose, and he was com- 
mitted to prison. =^ 

The case of Sidney in reality stood upon precisely 
the same ground. He was no more and no less 
guilty than Hampden, and there was not a particle 
more of legal evidence against him ; yet, nothing 
but his life would satiate the vengeance of his royal 
enemies, and it was therefore resolved to bring him to 
trial for high treason. We shall presently see, when 
we come to speak of his trial, the nature of the ad- 
ditional proof that was adduced against him, and the 
astonishing audacity of the prosecution in offering it. 
The chief justice of the King's Bench, who tried Lord 
Russell, was now dead. He had been succeeded by 
Sir George Jeffries, on the 29th September, 1683. 
The city of London had ceased to elect whig sheriffs, 
these officers being now selected by the court. Daniel 
and Dashwood, two of the most violent partisans of 

* Hampden actually paid £6,000 of this fine, and was released from 
prison. 



234 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

the king, had been appointed sheriffs of London and 
Middlesex by a commission under the great seal. 
They named Rouse and Hargrave, equally subser- 
vient tools and devoted to the service of the Crown, 
under-sheriffs. All things were now prepared for the 
sacrifice of Sidney, and the Crown lawyers at length 
deemed it safe to bring on the trial. Jeffries himself 
actually consulted with the counsel for the Crown on 
the means of compassing the prisoner's death, and a 
paper containing the result of the conference had been 
found on the attorney-general's table. The prelimin- 
aries, therefore, being finally arranged, on the 6th of 
November, after more than four months imprison- 
ment, Sidney was informed by the lieutenant of the 
tower that he had received orders to bring him, the 
next day, by a writ of habeas corpus before the King's 
Bench, at Westminster Hall. 



CHAPTEE VIII. 

Arraignment of Sidney — Lord Jeffries and his associates — Sidney excepts 
to the indictment— His exceptions overruled — Oppressive conduct of 
the Court— Sidney forced to plead to the indictment and remanded to 
prison — Appears at the bar of the King's Bench for trial —Means taken 
to secure his conviction — Selection and character of the jury — The 
judge refuses him a challenge — Sidney demands counsel and is refused 
— The trial — Oppressive and tyrannical conduct of the Court — The 
evidence — Its insufficient nature — Objections of Sidney — They are 
overruled by the Court — Lord Hovrard of Escrick — His character — 
His evidence — Testimony of Foster and Atterbury — The writings of 
Sidney introduced in evidence — Defence of the prisoner — His objec- 
tions overruled by the Court — He introduces testimony — Impeachment 
of Lord Howard — Contest with the Court— Brutal conduct of Jeffries 
— Sidney's argument to the jury — Speech of the Solicitor-General — 
Charge of the Judge — Verdict of the jury — Surrender of the Duke of 
Monmouth after the trial — Hopes of a new trial — Petition of Sidney 
to the king — Its failure — Sentence of Sidney — Scene between the pris- 
oner and the Court — Heroic conduct of Sidney — Condemned to be 
executed — Petition of Sidney to the king to commute his sentence to 
banishment — Is refused — His fortitude and resolution in his last hours 
— Description of his execution by the sheriff — Is beheaded — Buried at 
Penshurst — Reflections upon his trial, condemnation, and execution. 

On the 7th of November, 1683, Col. Sidney was 
arraigned for high treason before the King's Bench in 
"Westminster Hall. The infamous Sir George Jeffries, 



236 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

lord chief justice, presided on the bench, assisted 
by his associate justices, Wythins, Holloway, and 
Walcott. 

It is difficult to find in the history of any civilized 
people, a character more loathsome than that of Jef- 
fries. In early life he had practiced at the Old 
Bailey ; had afterwards become a serjeant-at-law, and 
been subsequently made Recorder of London. Nature 
had endowed him with a quick and ready talent, and 
some of the attributes of an able judge. His percep- 
tive powers were acute, and his intellect, when not 
unsettled by strong drink, singularly clear, enabling 
him at a glance to comprehend, and to carry out to 
the very letter, the v/ork that his master prepared for 
him. Yet Jeffries, notwithstanding the possession of 
some legal ability, was utterly unfit and unworthy, in 
character, in talents, and in habits, to occupy the 
place he filled. A violent, shameless, cruel, vindictive 
man, a renegade and traitor to every principle,*' the 
slave of the vilest sensual passions, a debauchee 
and a common drunkard, a demon incarnate, whose 
hands were polluted with gold and stained with the 
blood of innocence. The imagination can scarcely 
conceive a character so execrably base as that of this 
corrupt and wicked judge. 

Only a month or two before Sidney's trial, Charles 
had rewarded Jeffries' valuable services by promoting 
him to the seat he disgraced ; but Charles himself was 

* Jeffries once passed himself off as a "Round-head." — Macaulay^s 
History of England. 



CHAPTER vni. 237 

at the same time sensible of his baseness. " That 
man," said he, " has no learning, no sense, no man- 
ners, and more impudence than ten carted street- 
walkers." But the Chief Justice found a congenial 
spirit in the Duke of York, who, when he afterwards 
came to the throne, was so highly delighted with 
Jeffries' services, that as a peculiar mark of the royal 
favor, he conferred upon him a peerage, gave him a 
seat in the cabinet, and created him Lord Chancellor 
of England ! 

The judicial murder of Sidney was the first notable 
exploit of the Chief Justice after his elevation, as it 
was, undoubtedly, one of the most ingenious of his 
whole life. Other and more brutal triumphs followed 
him in his subsequent blood-stained career. When 
he had become more familiar with his position, and 
placed a surer reliance on the power that sustained 
him, he was accustomed in the fury of brutal passion, 
or maudlin rage, to terrify his juries into a verdict of 
guilty. Twice was the lady Lisle brought in by the 
jury acquitted of the charge preferred against her, but 
a third time was the jury sent out under a furious 
speech from the judge, and finally by threats and vio- 
lence compelled to convict the victim. " Why, thou 
vile wretch !" he exclaimed to one of the witnesses on 
this trial — " Dos't thou think because thou preva- 
ricatest wdth the court here, that thou cans't do so 
with Gi-od above, who knows thy thoughts ? And it 
is infinite mercy that with those falsehoods of thine 
he does not strike thee into hell ! Jesus God ! there 



238 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

is no conversation or human society to be kept with 
such people as these are, who have no religion but 
in pretence." 

Feats like the conviction of the lady Lisle, how- 
ever, were not achieved by Jeffries until some time 
after the trial of Sidney. He was now comparatively 
a novice, and resorted to artifice and cunning to ac- 
complish the nefarious purposes of the government ; 
and surely none of his achievements was performed 
with more clever dexterity than this, and no man was 
ever juggled out of his life more coolly, under the 
falsest pretences, than Algernon Sidney. 

By the side of the Chief Justice sat three men of 
straw. Wythins, like Jeffries, was a debauchee and 
a drunkard ; was drunk on the bench during the pro- 
ceedings, and gave Sidney the lie in open court. Hol- 
ioway and. Walcott were also creatures of the court, 
but said little on the trial. They of course concurred 
in all Jeffries' decisions, and Justice Holloway, at one 
stage of the proceedings, insulted the prisoner with 
the remark, " I think you have had a very fair trial." 
Well might Sidney say of judges like these, after a 
calm review of his trial, " Lest the means of destroy- 
ing the best Protestants in England should fail, the 
bench must be filled by such as had been blemishes to 
the bar.'''' 

It seems that Sidney was brought up from the 
tower at an early hour in the morning, before it was 
known there was any indictment against him, and 
that he was detained at a tavern about an hour, until 



CHAPTER YIII. 239 

the bill was found. On his being brought to the bar, 
the attorney-general. Sir Robert Sawyer, informed the 
court that there was an indictment against the pri- 
soner, and prayed he might be charged with it. The 
clerk of the Crown then directed him to hold up his 
hand, which he did, and the indictment was read to 
him. It was long, confused, and perplexed, so much 
so, that the ablest lawyers could give him, from recol- 
lection, but a very imperfect account of its contents. 
It alleged a variety of crimes, distinct in their nature, 
relating to different statutes, and distinguished from 
each other by law ; setting forth no overt act of trea- 
son precisely, no person with whom he had conspired, 
and fixing on the 20th of June, when he was actually 
a prisoner, as the medium time of his conspiring in 
the parish of St. Griles in the field.=^ 

When the reading was finished, Sidney took excep- 
tions to the indictment. This he did in person, the 
law of England at that time not permitting the 
prisoner the benefit of counsel at his trial, unless upon 
the argument of some point of law, in which case the 
court assigned counsel. But the Chief Justice would 
uot listen to his exceptions, and peremptorily required 
him to plead guilty or not guilty. The attorney 
general interposed : 

" If he will demur, my lord, we will give him 
leave." 

Col. Sidney. — "I presume your lordship will direct 
me, for I am an ignorant man in matters of this 

* Meadley's ]\remoirs. State Trials. 



240 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

kind. I may be easily surprised in it. I never was 
at a trial in my life, of any body, and never read a 
law book." 

Jeffries. — " Because no prisoner in your circum- 
stances is to have counsel but in special cases to be 
assigned in matters of law, the court is bound by their 
oaths, and duty of their places, that they shall not see 
any wrong done to you ; but the business we are to 
tell you now is, you are to plead guilty or not guilty, 
or demur, which is a concession, in point of law." 

How the infamous judge kept his pledge of seeing 
no wrong done the prisoner, we shall presently see. 

Meanwhile Sidney, still refusing to plead not guilty, 
or demur, urged his exceptions to the indictment, and 
instanced the case of Sir Henry Vane, in which such 
a course had been allowed. But the Chief Justice was 
peremptory, and again urged him to take his trial 
upon the indictment, thus w^aiving all objection to its 
sufficiency. Sidney then presenting a piece of parch- 
ment, which proved to be a special plea, drawn up by 
Sergeant Botheram, who, with Pollexfen and one or 
two others, had been assigned by order of the Earl of 
Sunderland to assist him in preparing for his trial, 
desired the Chief Justice to accept it. Jeffries inquired 
what it was, adding that if a special plea, and the 
attorney-general demurred to it, the prisoner w^aived 
the fact and would have judgment of death without a 
trial ! This was false, and the judge knew it. Had 
the plea been put in and found to be good, it would 
have had the effect of relieving the prisoner from 



CHAPTER V. 241 

answering an indictment containing several distinct 
offences, relating to different statutes, and purposely 
blended together, doubtless, with the veiw of entrapping 
him and obtaining an unfair advantage. If the plea 
had been overruled and the indictment held good, still 
the prisoner might have been admitted to plead not 
guilty, and put upon his trial. Any one versed in law 
knowledge knew such to be the fact, and yet Mr. 
Justice Wythins did not hesitate to endorse the lie of 
the Chief Justice, and when Col. Sidney informed the 
court that the parchment was a plea, "Wythins ex- 
claimed, ''Will you stand by it ? Consider yourself 
and your life. If you put in that plea, and the 
attorney demurs, if your plea be not good, your life 
is gone /" 

Sidney was staggered by these remarks. He be- 
lieved his plea to be good, but he had more confidence 
in the merits of his case, and hesitated to incur the 
risk of being cut off from his defence. He asked the 
court for a day to consider, but the Chief Justice 
roughly refused it, not choosing to give him the benefit 
of advising with his counsel, but wishing to entrap 
him through his own ignorance of the law. He then 
asked that his paper might be received, not as a plea, 
but as an exception to the indictment. The Chief 
Justice, whose brutal passions were now fast kindling 
into rage, replied : "It shall not be read, unless you 
put it in as a plea." 

William^, one of his legal advisers, here whispered 
to him to put in his plea, but the attorney-general now 
11 



242 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

alarmed at the turn matters were taking, called upon 
the court to reprove Williams for daring to inform the 
prisoner of his rights ; whereupon Williams was pub- 
licly reprimanded from the bench ! 

Sidney, however, refused to risk the consequences 
which Jeffries and Wythins had falsely assured him 
would follow a failure of his plea, and he merely 
offered it again as an exception to the bill. The clerk 
was thereupon directed to ask him the customary 
question : ^' Art thou guilty, or not guilty." Sidney 
still declining to answer, Jeffries threatened him with 
instant judgment in case he did not plead. Driven 
thus to the inevitable necessity, as he truly declared, 
by the violence and fraud of the Chief Justice, Sidney 
reluctantly plead not guilty, and thus " lost the ad- 
vantage which was never to be recovered, unless the 
judges could have been changed."'* 

The accused then desired a copy of the indictment. 
Jeffries replied that it could not be granted by law. 

The prisoner then asked if the court " would please 
to give him counsel." 

Lord Chief Justice. — " We can^t do it.t If you 
assign us any particular point of law, if the Court 
think it such a jioint as may be ivorth the dehating^ 

* Apology. 

t These severe and iinjust rules of the cojnmon law were abolished 
after the Revolution. By the statutes, 7 W. 3. c. 3, and 7 Ann c 21, 
the prisoner is entitled to a copy of the indictment ten days before the 
trial, with a list of the jury and of the witnesses on the part of the 
prosecution : Also, to have two counsel assigned him by whom he 
may have a full defence. 



CHAPTER vm. 243 

yoa shall have counsel, but if you ask for counsel 
for no other reason than because you ask it, we must 
not grant it. The court is bound to see that nothing 
be done against you but what is according to the rules 
of law. I looulcl be very loth to draio the guilt of 
any mail's blood upon me.''^ 

So spake the corrupt and depraved judge who had 
already taken the first step toward the accomplish- 
ment of this judicial murder, and who was subse- 
quently steeped to the lips in the blood of innocence. 

The indictment was read over again, and in Latin, 
a particular favor, as Jeffries afterwards informed the 
prisoner, and a favor, too, which had been denied Sir 
Henry Yane on his trial. This insignificant favor 
of the chief justice was more dangerous to the pris- 
oner than could have been a refusal of the request. 
It enabled Jeffries, under the pretence of having 
granted a favor ^ to deny the most important rights. 
Accordingly, when Sidney requested to be informed 
under what statute of treason he was to be tried, in 
order to enable him to prepare his defence, the Chief 
Justice gruffly replied, that the attorney-general would 
tell him what statute he went upon when he came to 
trial, and that he might give in evidence any act of 
Parliament which comprehended treason. Sidney was 
then notified that his trial would take place that day 
fortnight, after which, in custody of the lieutenant, he 
was carried back to the tower. 

On the 21st of November, two weeks after the 
scene just described. Col. Sidney was brought to the 



24:4 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

bar of the king's bench, for trial. The attorney-gen- 
eral. Sir Robert Sawyer, the solicitor-general, Hene- 
age Finch, and several other eminent lawyers, ap- 
peared as counsel for the Crown. Against this formi- 
dable array of legal talent, the prisoner stood friend- 
less and alone. He stood where, but a few years be- 
fore, Yane had stood ; where, but a few months before, 
Eussell had stood, a martyr with them to the liberties 
of his country, and with them about to seal with his 
blood his devotion to the principles he professed. 
From the first, it was easy to be seen that the accus- 
ed, like Yane, had been singled out, with cool premed- 
itation, as a victim and a sacrifice. The snare had 
been set carefully and deliberately, and the wretched 
farce, the mockery of a trial, was all that stood 
between him and the remorseless vengeance of the 
government. The bench before which he was to be 
tried was filled with judges such as have been describ- 
ed ; such as had been '' blemishes to the bar;" the 
like of which never before or since have disgraced 
Westminster Hall — worse than the creatures of Cou- 
thon and St. Just, or the most sanguinary judges of 
the revolutionay tribunal. But, lest a ray of hope 
might remain for the prisoner in the honesty of an 
English jury, the most systematic and careful mea- 
sures had been successfully carried into effect to 
pack a jury^ drawn from among the creatures and 
hirelings of the Court, and men of ruined char- 
acter and fortune, who were either his personal ene- 
mies, or were dependant entirely upon the royal favor. 



CHAPTER VIII. 245 

Sidney says in his '' Apology," that he thought his 
birth, education, and life, might have deserved a 
jury of the principal knights and gentlemen, free- 
holders in Middlesex, or at all events, if not free- 
holders, then the most eminent men for quality and 
understanding, reputation and virtue, who lived in 
the country. But when a copy of the panel was sent 
to him, he found a jury summoned of men, many of 
whom were of the " meanest callings, ruined fortunes, 
lost reputations, and hardly endowed with such under- 
standing as is required for a jury in a ' nisi prius' 
court, for a business of five pounds." The jury had 
been selected by the solicitors of the Crown ; the 
names of a few gentlemen were inserted in the panel 
for form's sake ; but the bailiffs had never summoned 
these, or, if summoned, they did not attend. Of the 
whole number returned, only the names of three per- 
sons were known to Col. Sidney, whom, if present, he 
had resolved to accept. The lord Chief Justice, too, 
arbitrarily refused him the right of challenge for 
cause against such of the jurors as were in the king's 
service, as wanted freeholds, or as were notoriously 
infamous. After a few peremptory challenges of such 
persons as he knew were summoned to destroy him, a 
jury was at length empanelled and sworn. Among 
the jurors were three carpenters, a tailor, a cheese 
monger, and a horse rider. 

Before entering upon the trial, Col. Sidney agai i 
moved for a copy of the indictment, and cited for that 
purpose the statute of 46 Edw. II., which enacted 



246 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

that all persons, in all cases, should have a copy of such 
records as were against them. The prisoner fortified his 
application with the precedents of the Earl of Strafford, 
Lord Stafford, and the popish lords in the tower, all of 
whom had availed themselves of this privilege ; but 
Jeffries again denied the application on the authority 
of the cases of Vane and Russell, holding that the 
right extended only to peers and not to commoners. 
Upon this part of the proceedings Sidney in his 
"Apology," indignantly remarks, " Although I am not 
a peer I am of the ivood of which they are made^ and 
do not find that our ancestors were less careful of the 
lives of commoners than of peers^ or that one law is 
made for them and another for us ; but are all en- 
tirely under the same law and the same rules." 

And now the formal proclamation for evidence hav- 
ing been made, the case was opened to the jury by 
Mr. Dolben, one of the counsel for the Crown, who 
stated the substance of the indictment, to wit : that 
the prisoner had conspired the death of the king, and 
to levy war within the kingdom ; and also that he had 
written a false, seditious libel, in which was contained 
these English words : " The poioer originally in the 
people of England is delegated unto the Parliament. 
The king is subject to the law of God as he is a man ; 
to the people that makes him a king, inasmuch as he 
is a king ; the law sets a measure unto that subjection,''^ 
etc. The attorney-general then followed in an artful 
and Jesuitical address designed to prepossess the minds of 
the jury, and to prejudice them against any defence 



OHAPTEK vin. 24:7 

the prisoner might make. In the course of his re- 
marks, the attorney-general expressed himself in indig- 
nant terms upon the " seditious libel" alleged to have 
been written by the prisoner, and upon the atrocious 
nature of the sentiments he entertained upon govern- 
ment as found written in his manuscript ; concluding 
with the following words : "Grentlemen, if we prove 
all these matters to you, I doubt not you will do 
right to the king and kingdom, and show your abhor- 
rence of those republican principles, which, if put in 
practice, will not only destroy the king, but the best 
monarchy in the world." 

What mercy was the prisoner to expect from such 
ruthless prosecutors, what favor from that corrupt 
bench, what justice at the hands of that slavish jury ! 

Then the solicitor-general. Finch, the same who 
twenty years before had covered himself with infamy 
by his conduct in the prosecution of Vane, called 
West as the first witness for ths crown. This West 
was the individual, who with Col. Rumsey, Keil- 
ing, and others, had been concerned in the Rye- 
house Plot, which had just been discovered. Sidney 
was not in the least implicated in that plot, and was 
even unacquainted with the conspirators who were now 
produced as witnesses, not to prove any connection of 
his with the plot, but to prove generally the existence 
of a plot. 

Sidney objected to West as a witness, on the ground 
that he had ionfessed many treasons and was not yet 
pardoned. 



248 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

*' I don't know that," interposed the Chief Justice. 

" My lord," said Sidney, " how can he be a witness 
then ?" 

" Swear him," growled Jeffries, " for I know no 
legal objection against him. He was a good witness 
in my Lord Russell's trial ?" 

The witness was then asked by one of the Crown 
lawyers what he knew " o/ a general insurrection in 
England .^" 

The prisoner here objected to the giving of any 
evidence except what concerned himself personally ; 
but the court overruled his objection, and suffered West 
to detail his own conversations, and the conversations 
of others relative to the Rye-house Plot, and a pro- 
jected general rising, in which Sidney was not in the 
slightest degree concerned. "As to the prisoner in 
particular," said this witness in conclusion, " I know 
nothing, and did never speak with him till since the 
discovery," In the course of the examination, while 
"West was detailing the rumors and reports of a plot 
he had heard, Sidney attempted again to object to this 
illegal evidence. But Jeffries peremptorily silenced 
him with the remark : " You must not interrupt the 
witness. G-o on, sir." 

Rumsey was then called to the stand and proceeded 
in a similar strain. He spoke of the meeting at Shep- 
herd's, and several meetings at West's, in which the 
rising was talked off, but did not pretend that Sidney 
was present, or had any knowledge of these meetings; 
or was in any way connected with the conspiracy, 



CHAPTER vm. 249 

except tliat West and one G-oodenough had told the 
witness that there was a Council of six, composed of 
the prisoner, the Dake of Monmouth, Lord Essex, 
Lord Howard, Lord Russell, and Mr. Hampden, who 
ivere expected to countenance the rising. 

The infamous Keiling, who had been the first to 
turn evidence for the Crown and betray his associates, 
was then sworn. He merely testified to a conversa- 
tion with Goodenough, who, the witness said, had told 
him of a design of a general insurrection, and that 
Col. Sidney, w^hom the witness admitted he did not 
know, was to have a considerable part in the manage- 
ment of it. 

Col. Sidney. — My lord, I must ever put you in 
mind, whether it be ordinary to examine men upon 
indictments of treason concerning me, that I never 
saw nor heard of in my life. 

Jeffries. — I tell you all this evidence does not affect 
you, and I tell the jury so. 

Col. Sidney. — But it prepossesses the jury. 

The Chief Justice made no reply. 

Thus far not the first syllable of anything like 
evidence known to the common law of England, had 
been given against the prisoner. The hearsays, the 
rumors, the reports of a plot, of the very existence of 
which there was no proof that Sidney had even the 
remotest knowledge, were clearly inadmissible for any 
purpose ; but the tyrannical judge had suffered them to 
be given under the false pretence that he meant to tell 
the jury that this testimony did not affect the prisoner. 
11# 



250 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

The prosecution, now, undertook to give more 
definite and positive evidence, and for that purpose 
called the sole witness on whom they relied to prove 
any connection of the prisoner with the plot, Lord 
Howard, one of the pretended Council of six. A word 
in respect to this witness may be proper, before un- 
dertaking to give the substance of his testimony. 

Lord Howard of Escrick is justly branded by Bishop 
Burnet as a monster of ingratitude. He was a man 
of pleasing manners, but of the most worthless and 
depraved character. Strangely enough, he had ac- 
quired in a high degree the good opinion of Sidney, 
who had befriended and aided him on many occasions. 
He had lent him large sums of money, which were 
still owing. When Howard was committed to the 
Tower, as the author of a treasonable libel, Sidney had 
remained true to him, and by means of the most 
active exertions had procured the withdrawal of the 
indictment against him. Yet, at the same time that 
Sidney was thus befriending this mean-spirited wretch, 
utterly unworthy the friendship of such a man, 
Howard was plotting the ruin of his benefactor. He 
had succeeded in introducing Sidney to the Duke of 
Monmouth, as we have seen, by practising a fraud on 
both. It was upon the representations, and at the 
request of Sidney alone, that Howard was admitted 
at the future consultations, and into the confidence 
of Monmouth, Essex, Russell, and Hampden, where 
he availed himself of the opportunity offered, to be- 
come an infamous apostate, and betray the friends 



CHAPTER YII. 251 

who had trusted him. Sidney states, and doubtless 
with truth, that Howard not only attempted to de- 
fraud him out of the money he had lent him, but also 
had come to his house after his arrest, in the name of 
a friend, and endeavored to get his plate and other 
valuables into his own hands. After Russell's and 
Sidney's arrest, this craven wretch went about with 
eyes and hands uplifted to heaven solemnly swearing, 
what doubtless was then the truth, that he knew of no 
plot^ and believed nothing of if. Just before Russell's 
trial, however, he was arrested in his own house, 
where he was found concealed in a chimney, and 
when taken into custody, commenced weeping like a 
child. Finding that his safety and his life w^ere to be 
secured only by his giving evidence for the Crown, or, 
as he did not hesitate to express it himself, by '^ the 
drudgery of swearing," he without scruple volunteered 
his testimony, and proved traitor to those who had 
befriended and trusted him. Such was the ingrate 
\vhose testimony had convicted Russell of treason ; 
whose single, unsupported, and contradictory oath 
sent Sidney to the scaffold. 

The Lord Howard was called to the stand, and the 
attorney-general desired him to tell what he knew 
respecting the connection of the prisoner with this 
affair of a general insurrection. Howard then com- 
menced his story with the preliminary flourish thar, in 
entering upon the evidence he was about to give, he 
could not but observe "what a natural uniformity 
there is in truth." He referred to the testimony of 



252 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

the other witnesses, and spoke vaguely of an " enter- 
prise that had long been in hand, and was then fallen 
flat," the reviving of which the Duke of Monmouth, 
the prisoner at the bar, and himself, were the first to 
consult upon. "What the " enterprise" was, the wit- 
ness did not pretend to state. The " consultation" 
spoken of was probably at the time he had succeeded 
by his duplicity in getting Monmouth to dine with 
Sidney. The witness further testified that Monmouth 
undertook to engage Russell, and that Sidney pro- 
mised to bring Essex and Hampden into the cabal. 
That the six subsequently met at Hampden's house, 
where, in a conversation commenced by Hampden 
some mention was made of a sum of money to be 
raised for an " enterprise" (what it was the witness 
does not state) ; and the Duke of Monmouth men- 
tioned twenty-five or thirty thousand pounds. The wit- 
ness then went on to say that he was present at 
one other meetinsj at the house of Russell. At this 
meeting Howard said there was some discourse by 
Mr. Hampden, which was thought to be untimely 
and 2inseasonahle^ and that was (we give his own 
words), " that having now united ourselves with such 
an undertaking as thiswas^ it could not but be expected 
that it would be a question put to many of us — to 
what end all this was ? Where it was we intended 
to terminate ? Into what we intended to resolve ?" 
Hampden then communicated his opinion that the 
object ought to be, " to put the properties and liber- 
ties of the people in such hands as they should not be 



CHAPTEE ym. 253 

easily invaded by any that were trusted with the 
supreme authority," and to '' resolve all into the 
authority of Parliament." The witness stated that 
this was finally consented to, though it had " a little 
harshness to some that were there," doubtless, allud- 
ing to the Duke of Monmouth, whose object was the 
throne, while that of Sidney as well as of Essex, Russell 
and Hampden was a free, if not a republican, govern- 
ment. The witness testified further, that a propo- 
sition Vv^as made in respect to sending an emissary to 
Scotland, to some leading men there, in order to 
ascertain the minds of the people of that country ; 
whereupon Sidney proposed one Aaron Smith as a 
proper person for such a mission. This, he said, was 
all that occurred to him as having passed at the meet- 
ings, and these were the only meetings at which he 
was. In answer to some further questions put to 
him by the attorney-general, he said that once in 
London he had seen Sidney take out several guineas, 
he supposed about sixty, which, he said, were for 
Smith, and afterwards Sidney had told him that 
Smith had departed for Scotland. This was the sub- 
stance of Lord Howard's testimony. At its close, the 
Chief Justice inquired of the prisoner if he would ask 
any questions. Sidney replied that he had no ques- 
tions to ask. Hereupon the attorney-general, catch- 
ing his cue from Jeffries, responded, for the particular 
benefit of the jury : " Silence — you know the pro^ 
verby 

Foster and Atterbury were then sworn, who tes- 



254- ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

tified briefly and vaguely to the fact of some Scotch 
gentlemen coming np to London, among whom was 
Sir John Cockran, to whom it was pretended Smith 
had carried a letter, written, as Howard believed^ by 
Lord Russell. 

So closed this most weak, inconclusive, and ex- 
traordinary testimony, which the prosecution had so 
diligently prepared to sustain this branch of the case. 
Although nothing in reality was proved to support 
the indictment for the crime of conspiracy against, 
and imagining the death of, the king, and of levying 
war against him in his realm, even admitting the tes- 
timony of the perjured Howard to be true, yet the 
prosecjitors insisted, confident that the judge would 
so charge the jury, that they had abundantly proved 
the overt act of treason by one witness. In order, 
however, to convict of the crime of treason, it wa? 
necessary, as has been mentioned, that two concurring 
witnesses should testify to some overt act. Thus far 
the Crown had produced only one, Lord Howard. In 
order to supply the defect of proof, they now pro- 
posed to introduce the manuscripts of Sidney, seized 
by Sir Philip Lloyd in his closet, at the time of his 
arrest, which the prosecution insisted was equivalent 
to another witness. 

Sir Philip Lloyd was sworn, who testified that hs 
had seized, under the warrant of the king and council, 
certain papers of Col. Sidney, at the time of his 
arrest. Shepherd, Cary, and Cooke, three witnesses 
produced by the Crown, were then sworn, who proved 



CHAPTEE VIII. 255 

by comparison of hands^ that the papers found were 
the writings of the prisoner.* Notwithstanding the 
objection of the prisoner against the illegality of the 
evidence, the papers were admitted, and a portion of 
them read to the jury. In order to show upon what 
evidence Sidney was convicted of the crime of high 
treason, we shall quote the following passages from 
these papers, which were read upon his trial, alleged, 
doubtless with truth, to have been written by him ; 
and which the lord Chief Justice charged the jury 
were to be considered equivalent to the production of 
another witness to prove an overt act of treason : — 

'' For this reason Bracton saith, that the king hath 
three superiors, to wit, Deum, legeni, et parliament,^ 
that is, the power originally in the people of England 
is delegated unto the Parliament. He is subject unto 
the law of God, as he is a man ; to the people that 
makes him king, inasmuch as he is a king. The law 
sets a measure unto that subjection, and the Parlia- 
ment judges of the particular cases thereupon arising. 
He must be content to submit his interest unto theirs, 
since he is no more than any one of them in any 
other respect than that he is, by the consent of all, 
raised above any other." 

'^ If lie doth not like this condition he may renounce 
the crown ; but if he receive it upon that condition, 
as all magistrates do the power they receive, and 
swear to perform it, he must expect that the perform- 

* One of them, however, had seen Sidney sign his name to the bills, 
t God, law, and the parliament. 



256 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

ance will be exacted, or revenge taken by those that 
he hath betrayed." 

The clerk having finished the reading of these and 
similar extracts, Jeffries remarked to the jury, " The 
argument runs through the book fixing the power in 
the people." Whereupon the clerk was directed to 
read the titles of two other sections, which he did : — 

" The general revolt of a natioa from its own 
magistrates, can never be called a rebellion." 

" The power of calling and dissolving parliaments 
is not in the king." 

The enunciation of these two propositions — which 
contained within themselves an entire justification of 
the late revolution — seemed to fill the virtuous judges, 
the Crown lawyers, and the jury, with horror. The 
enormity of the prisoner's crime was now fully mani- 
fested. Such sentiments as these, as JeflTries subse- 
quently remarked, were not only equivalent to another 
witness, but to " many witnesses." And the prose- 
cutors havinsT at last condescended to inform the 
prisoner that he was indicted under the first branch 
of the statute of 25th Edward III., for conspiring and 
compassing the death of the king, here rested the case, 
with all the confident assurance of men who read in 
the stern countenances of the court and jury the 
doom of their victim. 

Apparently, Sidney in entering upon his defence felt 
the same conviction. The arbitrary and tyrannical 
treatment he had received, was such as to give him 
too plainly to understand that his death was a thing 



CHAPTER VIII. 257 

already determined. He, however, bore up manfully 
and resolutely, but hopelessly, against the formidable 
power that assailed him, like a strong swimmer vainly 
struggling for his life, and striving with stout heart to 
breast the resistless current that is steadily and surely 
bearing him down. Before calling any witnesses he 
addressed his judges, and after some pertinent and un- 
answerable comments upon the insufficiency of the 
testimony, he desired the court to relieve him from 
entering upon his defence, upon the ground that only 
one witness had been produced against him. Bat he 
was met only with the scornful answer of the Chief 
Justice, that if he did not choose to make any defence, 
the court would charge the jury upon the law pre- 
sently, and leave them to decide the case upon the 
evidence already given. Sidney then desired counsel 
to argue the point of there being but a single witness, 
but Jeffries ruled this to be a question of fact for the 
jury, who alone were to determine whether the evi- 
dence was sufficient or not ! Baffled on all sides by 
the subtlety, the almost infernal craft of the judge, 
Sidney still manfully stood his ground, and undertook 
himself to argue before that prejudiced tribunal, that 
the papers found in his possession were no evidence of 
treason, or of any crime. He urged that they were 
never published, and perhaps never would have been ; 
that from the color of the ink they appeared to have 
been written twenty years ago ; that the matter of 
the book was not treasonable, and was connected with 
no plot, past, present, or to come, but that the treatise 



258 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

itself, as appeared upon its face, was in answer to an 
infamous book of Sir Robert Filmer on the " Divine 
Right of Kings," wherein that author laid down the 
doctrine of absolute power on the part of the monarch, 
and passive obedience on the part of the subject ; and 
that by the law of England he had a right to contro- 
vert such speculative opinions, or at least to write his 
own thoughts in respect to them in his closet. Here 
the argument of Sidney began to grow too trouble- 
some to the Chief Justice. He abruptly interrupted 
him (as he constantly did in such parts of his discourse 
as he saw might influence the jury) and sternly re- 
minded him that it was not his business to ''spend 
your time and the court^s time in that which serves to 
no other purpose than to gratify a luxuriant way of 
talking you have ;" and thereupon he repeated, that 
when he came to direct the jury, he should instruct 
them that the law required two witnesses, but that 
whether there was such proof or not was to be solely 
determined by the juryj as a question of fact. His 
learned associates, Wythins and Holloway, chimed in 
their notes of approval. Col. Sidney calmly answered : 
" Truly, my lord, I do as little intend to mis-spend my 
own time, and your time, as ever any man that came 
before you." 

Whereupon Jeffries brutally rejoined ; " Take your 
own method, Mr. Sidney ; but I say if you are a man 
of low spirits and weak body, 'tis a duty incumbent 
on the court to exhort you not to spend your time upon 
things that are not material." 



CHAPTER VIII. 259 

Overruled thus on all sides — the contents of papers 
written many years before, being held evidence of an 
existing plot to murder the king — the innocent specu- 
lations of a philosopher being construed into the plot- 
tings of the rankest treason, and his objections to 
these absurd constructions of law being held entirely 
immaterial, Sidney still pressed his last point, that the 
discourses were never published, observing that he 
thought it '' a right of mankind, and exercised by all 
studious men, to write what they pleased in their own 
closets for their own memory, Vv^ithout ever being called 
in question for it." But Jeffries did not so understand 
the law. " Pray, don't go away with that right of 
mankind," he remarked, " I have been told, curse not 
the king, not in thy thoughts, not in thy bedchamber, 
the birds of the air will carry it ; I took it to be the 
duty of mankind to observe that.'''' 

Such was one of the judges, who but little more 
than a century and a half ago, administered the law 
in Westminster Hall on the bench of a tribunal whose 
decisions have the weight of authority in our own 
country, and which are daily quoted in our own court 
as the highest evidences of the common law ! 

Put thus to the necessity of rebutting what the 
court was pleased to consider the facts proved against 
him. Col. Sidney called several witnesses for the pur- 
pose of impeaching the statements of Lord Howard. 
Among these were Howard's two kinsmen, Mr. Philip 
and Mr. Edward Howard, the Earl of Anglesey, Lord 
Clare, Lord Paget and Bishop Burnett. It is unneces- 



260 ALGERNON SIDNET. 

sary in this place to go into the particulars of the 
testimony given by these witnesses. They all con- 
curred in the fact that Lord Howard, before his arrest, 
had continually disavowed the existence of any plot, 
and treated it with ridicule, and that even in the 
midst of the most familiar and intimate conversations 
with his friends, asserted the same facts, and even for- 
tified his statements with an oath. Bishop Burnet, 
for example, testified that Howard protested to him 
with hands and eyes uplifted to heaven, that he knew 
nothing of any plot, and believed nothing of it, and 
looked upon it as a ridiculous thing. His cousin, 
Edward Howard, with whom he had always been on 
the closest terms of intimacy, testified that he had 
stated to him confidentially, in a private conversation, 
the same thing, assuring him that the whole plot was 
a sham, to his knowledge, devised by Jesuits and 
Papists. The apparent sincerity of the communica- 
tion on that occasion, was so totally irreconcileable 
with the truth of Lord Howard's present statements, 
that his cousin assured the jury he would not believe 
Lord Howard under oath. 

Here the Chief Justice, who feared the effect of his 
testimony onthe minds ot the jury, interfered : " This 
must not be suffered." 

The attorney-general angrily remarked to the wit- 
ness, " You ought to be bound to your good behavior 
for that." 

And Jeffries promptly told the jury they were bound 



CHAPTEE VIII. 261 

by their oaths to go according to the evidence, and 
were not ^^ to go hy merCs conjectures^^ 

In addition to this evidence, the infamous character 
of Howard was proved by other confessions and acts. 
A. witness, Blake, testified that after the discovery of 
the pretended plot, Howard Piad told him he could not 
have his pardon "till the drudgery of swearing was 
over." Howard himself admitted on the trial that he 
owed Sidney money on a mortgage. Grrace Tracy and 
Elizabeth Penwick, two of Sidney's servants, testified 
that Howard came to the house after Sidney's arrest, 
and after calling upon God to witness that he knew 
nothing of a plot, and was sure Col. Sidney knew 
nothing of one, desired to obtain possession of Sid- 
ney's plate, and ordered it to be sent to his own house 
to be secured. Upon this the testimony closed, and 
the prisoner was directed by the court to apply him- 
self to the jury. 

The brief address of Sidney to the jury, as it is 
found published in the " State Trials," appears to us 
embarrassed and restrained. He was, doubtless, sen- 
sible, though conscious of his own innocence, that his 
defence was desperate before that partial and bigoted 
tribunal. The argument of the legal questions in- 
volved, is both acute and logical, and at times he 
rises to a lofty and manly eloquence ; yet, throughout 
the whole, though he never ioY a moment loses his 
calmness and self-possession, he seems to be laboring 
as a man who struggles against hope. One fact is 
singularly significant of the utter hopelessness of the 



262 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

position in which he found himself placed. It is, 
that he did not venture to justify to the jury, as 
he had previously done to the court, a single passage 
from the manuscript which had been read against 
hira. He urged the defect in the proof of the hand- 
writing, and that the similitude of hands to which 
the witnesses had sworn was no proof; but he does 
not place his defence on the broad ground that the 
sentiments contained in the manuscript are justifiable. 

" If anything is to be made of them," he says, 
" you must produce the whole ; for 'tis impossible to 
make anything of a part of them. You ask me 
what other passages I would have read ? I don't 
know a passage in them. I can't tell whether it be 
good or bad. But if there are any papers found ('tis 
a great doubt whether they were found in my study 
or whether they be not counterfeited, but though that 
be admitted that they were found in my house), the 
hand is such that it shows they have been written 
very many years. Then, that which seems to be an 
account of the sections and chapters, that is but a 
scrap. And what, if any body had, my lord, either 
in my own hand or another's found papers that are 
not well justified, is this treason ? Does this imagine 
the death of the king ? Does this reach the life of 
the king ? If any man can say I ever printed a 
sheet in my life, I will submit to any punishment." 

Speaking further of Howard's statement in respect 
to the meeting of the Council of six, he says : — 



CHAPTER VIII. 263 

** This was nothing, if he was a credible witness, 
but a few men talking at large of what might be, or 
might not be — what was likely to fall out without 
any manner of intention or doing anything. They 
did not so much as inquire whether there were men 
in the country, arms, or ammunition. A war to be 
made by five or six men, not knowing one another — 
not trusting one another ! What said Dr. Coxe in 
his evidence at my Lord Russell's trial, of my Lord 
Russell's trusting my Lord Howard ? He might say 
the same of some others. So that, my lord, I say 
these papers have no manner of coherency — no depen- 
dence upon any such design. You .must go upon 
conjecture, and after all you find nothing, but only 
papers — never perfect — only scraps — written many 
years ago ; and that could not be calculated for the 
raising of the people. Now pray, what imagination 
can be more vain than that? What man can be 
safe if the king's counsel can make such (whimsical, 
I won't say, but) groundless constructions ?" 

Such was Sidney's explanation to the jury of the 
papers found in his possession. Doubtless, his course 
in assuming this cautious position was the most pru- 
dent he could have taken before such a jury, so 
far as the probable issue of the trial was concerned ; 
but we cannot look over his defence without a feeling 
of disappointment at its comparative tameness, and 
the conviction that he suffered to pass by him the 
glorious opportunity of boldly justifying the noble sen- 
timents contained in his discourses, and that too with- 



264 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

out realizing the least benefit from his excess of pru- 
dence. Sidney's defence, though firm, manly, and 
elevated, and though not disfigured by a word or 
thought unworthy the man or the occasion, yet com- 
pares unfavorably with the masterly and every way 
glorious defence by Yane, when arraigned and con- 
demned on a similar charge. Though Sidney pos- 
sessed a larger degree of physical courage, and a 
greater share of what the world calls intrepidity and 
daring, yet the highest conception we can form of his 
character does not clothe it with that elevated, that 
almost sublime, moral heroism — that high-wrought 
enthusiasm in the discharge of duty — that unshrink- 
ing, undying devotion to principle, even at the judg- 
ment tribunal, and in the face of the scaffold, which 
embalms the memory of Sir Harry Yane. Yane, in 
presence of his judges, fearlessly avowed and justified 
every act and sentiment of his whole life ; he spoke 
not for himself alone, but for his fellow men — not for 
his own sake merely, as he told his judges, but for 
theirs, and posterity ; and at the close of his trial, 
the issue of which he had all along foreseen, he 
blessed the Lord " that he had been enabled to dis- 
charge, to his own entire satisfaction, the duty he 
owed to his country and to the liberty of his country- 
men." But it should be remembered at the same 
time, that the defence of Yane, if more striking and 
noble than that of Sidney, was made under more 
advantageous circumstances. Deeply skilled in the 
subtle dialectics of the day ; possessing a profound, an 



CHAPTER vm. 265 

acute, and a wonderfully versatile intellect ; able at 
once to deal with the most abstruse questions of meta- 
physics, of controversial divinity, and of law, Yane 
was precisely the man, with his high-wrought and 
just conceptions of liberty and right, and his un- 
shrinking moral firmness, to stand manfully up in 
justification of every word he had ever uttered in 
favor of the freedom of his countrymen. So he did ; 
and for several days baffled the ingenuity of the most 
accomplished lawyers of the kingdom, and averted, 
and almost foiled the efforts of a court that wielded 
the whole power of the law to crush him. It does 
not detract from the merits of Sidney's defence, nor 
from that of any other victim of political persecution 
who ever stood at the bar of the king's bench in 
Westminster Hall, to say that none can be found to 
rival in greatness and moral sublimity this last public 
effort of the most illustrious statesman of the Com- 
monwealth. 

When Sidney had concluded his speech in his own 
defence, the solicitor-general. Sir Heneage Finch, 
arose to address the jury. Finch was an able and 
skilful advocate, versed in all the subtlety and craft 
ot his profession. His harangue on this occasion was 
an ingenious tissue of calumnies, ii.isrepresentations, 
and sophistry ; exhibiting throughout the practised 
hand of the pampered and unscrupulous advocate, 
whose business, as king's counsel, it had been, through 
a long series of years, as Sidney expressed it, to drive 
men headlong into verdicts upon no evidence. And 
12 



266 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

surely never had a case occurred in which that feat 
was more successfully accomplished. At the close of 
Finch's speech the prisoner attempted to correct 
some of his misrepresentations of the evidence, and 
false construction of the law ; but he was sternly 
and peremptorily silenced by the court. 

Then Jeffries stood up to charge the jury. He 
spoke about an hour and a quarter, in a tone of vio- 
lence, and in a spirit of gross partiality, that would 
have been censurable in an advocate at the bar. In 
his " Apology," Sidney, speaking of this charge of the 
judge, says of it : "I can give no other account of it 
than that, as he had been long observed to excel in 
the laudable faculty of misleading juries, he did 
exercise it with more confidence upon the bench than 
ever he had done at the bar ; declared treasons that 
had been hitherto unknown, and that the jury was 
obliged to take that to be law which he judged to be 
so, and misrepresented the evidence even more than 
the Solicitor had cloned 

All this was true to the very letter. Jeffries did 
not even preserve the semblance of the judge, but 
throughout the entire charge assumed the tone of an 
advocate for the Crown, and with a facility of perver- 
sion both of the law and evidence, which the greater 
self-respect of the solicitor-general did not permit him 
to use, and with a tact and ready talent, and an art 
of expression almost infernal, which never failed him 
when mischief was to be accomplished, he so presented 
the case to the jury as rendered a conviction certain. 



CHAPTER vm. 267 

It will be remembered that Jeffries, in answer to an 
objection of the prisoner, had stated during the trial 
that he should charge the jury as a matter of law,' 
that two witnesses were necessary to convict of hi-^h 
treason, but that it was a question of fact for tie 
jury to determine whether there was such evidence or 
not. He now, however, took the whole matter out of 
the hands of the jury, and in effect ordered them to 
bring m a verdict of guilty. Having iirst carefully 
charged them that they were bound to receive the 
law from the Court, he went on to stigmatize Sidney's 
manuscript as a " most traitorous and seditious libel " 
''It you believe," he remarks, "that that was Col 
Sidney's book, no man can doubt but it is sufficient 
emdence that he is guilty of compassing andimagin. 
ing the death of the king." After pressing upon the 
jury, with a lawyer's peculiar and ready tact, the 
moral certainty that this book was the writing, of the 
prisoner, he thus proceeds to characterize its enor- 
mities : 

"Another thing which J must talce notice of in this case is to 
remmd you how this book contains all the malice and revenue and 
reason that ntankind can be guilty of. /,^„. ike .ole polcr in 
the ParUamenl and the j,eoj,U, so that he catdes on the design still 
for he.r delates at their meetings were to that purpose And 
such doctrines as these suit with their debates; for there a general 
.nsurrecfon was designed, and that « as discoursed of in this book 
and encourage .They must not give it an ill name ; it must not 
be called a rebelhon, ,t being the general act of the people. The 

^h"f h" 7l'^\ '''Tf " ™'° "'■"' '"^ '''"S - •>"' 'h-> '™»'ee : 
hat he had betrayed his trust, he had misgoverned, and now he is 
to g,ve It up, that they may be all kings tnemseives. Gentlemen 



268 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

I must tell you I think I ought more than ordinarily to press this 
upon you, because I know the misfortunes of the late unhappy- 
rebellion, and the bringing the late blessed king to the scaffold, was 
first begun by such kind of principles. They cried, he had betrayed 
the trust that was delegated to him from the people," &c., &c. 

He finally sums up his detestable comments upon 
the book with the remark — " So that it is not upon 
two, but it is upon greater evidence than twenty- 
two, if you believe this book was writ by him." 

This was charged as a matter of law, which the 
jury were bound by their oaths to receive — that the 
contents of the papers were treasonable, and were equi- 
valent to many witnesses, and that unless the jury- 
found, the papers were not written by the prisoner, 
they were bound by their oaths to convict him. What 
course was left for this poor, ignorant and enslaved 
jury, but to follow the directions of a tyrannical gov- 
ernment, uttered through the lips of a corrupt and 
shameless judge I 

As for the rest, Jeffries proceeded to examine, with 
much ingenuity of artifice, the prisoner's objections 
to the testimony, and to demonstrate to the jury, step 
by step, that all were untenable and absurd. The ob- 
jections against Lord Howard, so far from impeaching 
him, he said, went rather to his credit, by proving him 
to be an unwilling witness ! And, finally, having 
arrived at the comfortable conclusion, that no shadow 
of doubt ought to be entertained of the prisoner's 
guilt, the Lord Chief Justice took his seat. The sage 
and oracular Justice Wythins then stood up, but merely 
to declare the opinion of the rest of the court, that 



CHAPTER vrrr. 269 

" in all the points of law we concur with my Lord 
Chief Justice." 

The jury now retired. Jeffries followed them, as 
he pretended, to get a cup of sack, but for the pur- 
pose, as it is asserted, of giving them further and 
private instructions. In half an hour's time they re- 
turned with a verdict of Guilty. 

The trial had lasted from ten o'clock in the morn- 
ing till six in the evening. During the whole of this 
period the prisoner had manifested the utmost steadi- 
ness and serenity of temper. He was frequently ob- 
served to smile at the conduct of his persecutors, and 
he listened to the verdict of the jury with calmness 
and indifference. Before the verdict was recorded, he 
desired to avail himself of the right of inquiring sev- 
erally of the jurors whether each one had found him 
guilty, and especially whether each one had found him 
guilty of compassing the king's death ; of levying war 
against the king ; of any treason within the statute 
of 25 Edward III. ;=^ or of any proved against him by 
two witnesses. But the Chief Justice overruled his 
request, and he was again remanded to the tower. 

Three days after the trial, the Duke of Monmouth 
surrendered himself to the government. He was ad- 
mitted into the presence of the king, his father, peni- 
tently confessed his errors, and was graciously for- 

* The case of Sidney was not attempted by the Crown lawyers to be 
brought under any head of the statute of treasons other than the first, 
namely : " When a man doth compass or imagine the death of our lord 
the king, of our lady his queen, or of their eldest son and heir." 



270 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

given. The friends of Sidney began to entertain hopes 
that a new and more impartial trial might be obtained, 
and that the important testimony of Monmouth might be 
used with effect to acquit him. With this view he was 
persuaded to present a petition to the king, which he did 
on the 25th of November, by the hands of Lord Halifax. 
The petition set forth briefly the irregularities of the 
trial, and the gross injustice the prisoner had sus- 
tained at the hands of the court, and prayed that the 
petitioner might be admitted into the presence of his 
majesty. The nature of Charles, though cold and 
perfidious, was not cruel, and the request might have 
been granted, but the vengeful and blackhearted Duke 
of York was at that time high in favor in the coun- 
cils of the kins:. He seems to have taken the case 
of Sidney under his especial patronage, and to have 
committed it to the sure hands of his protege Jeffries. 
The prisoner's petition, and all his grievances, were 
referred back to the very judges by whom he had been 
tried. Jeffries had before declared, in his furious way, 
that the prisoner must die, or he himself would die. 
And the Duke of York, by taking the petition out of 
the hands of the king, and placing it in those of 
the Chief Justice and his satellites, knew that he was 
signing the death-warrant of the prisoner. 

On the following day, November the 26th, Col. Sid- 
ney was brought up to the bar for sentence. The re- 
markable scene that ensued is but partially detailed 
in the printed report of the trial, which has been 
mainly followed in this sketch, but which it seems 



CHAPTER VIII. 271 

was corrected, and some of the most atrocious pro- 
ceedings expunged by order of the Chief Justice. The 
*' Apology" of Sidney, " in the day of his death," has 
supplied some of these defects. Thus it appears, that 
while Sidney was stating his reasons why the judg- 
ment should be arrested, Mr. Justice Wythins, who on 
this occasion was drunk on the bench, gave him the 
lie in open court. To this the prisoner made the mild 
but dignified reply, that, ''having lived above three- 
score years, I have never received or deserved such 
language, for that I have never asserted anything that 
was false." 

We pass over the colloquy that ensued between the 
prisoner at the bar and his judges on the bench. Sid- 
ney presented a variety of points on his motion for a 
new trial, embracing substantially the irregularities 
already mentioned, in summoning the jury, and in 
denying him a fair and impartial trial. The court, 
however, interrupted him before he had finished stating 
his points, and refused to allow him to proceed. At 
every step he encountered the determined opposition 
of the Chief Justice, who overruled each of his objec- 
tions without a hearing, and seemed impatient to enjoy 
the luxury of pronouncing the sentence. Placed thus 
beyond the pale of the law, the court stated to him, 
in the midst of his objections, that nothing now re- 
mained but to pronounce the judgment the law 
required to be pronounced in cases of high treason. 
Sidney, turning in despair from that corrupt tribunal, 
exclaimed : 



272 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

" I must appeal to Grod and the world. I am not 
heard !" 

" Appeal to whom you will," answered Jeffries, and 
proceeded with mock solemnity to pass the customary 
sentence of the law for high treason. As he con- 
cluded, Sidney, raising his hands to Heaven, ex- 
claimed : 

" Then, God ! I beseech thee to sanctify these 
sufferings unto me, and impute not my blood to the 
country, nor to the great city through which I am to 
be drawn ; let no inquisition be made for it, but if 
any, and the shedding of blood that is innocent must 
be avenged, let the weight of it fall upon those that 
maliciously persecute me for righteousness sake." 

To this solemn and striking invocation Jeffries bru- 
tally replied : 

" I pray Grod work in you a temper fit to go to the 
other world, for I see you are not fit for this." 

Conceiving these words were meant to intimate that 
he spoke in a disordered state of mind, Sidney held 
out his hand and proudly answered : 

" My lord, feel my pulse and see if I am disordered. 
I bless G-od I never was in better temper than I am 
now."*" 

During the interval between his sentence and exe- 

*' Alluding to this occurrence in his " Apology," he says : " And I do 
profess that, so far as I do know and did then feel myself, I was never 
in a more quiet temper; glory and thanks be unto God forever, who 
has filled me with comforts, and so upholds me, that having, as I hope, 
through Christ, vanquished sin, he doth preserve me from the fear of 
death." 



CHAPTER vni. 273 

cution, powerful intercession was made in his behalf, 
and it was thought that a commutation of his sen- 
tence might be obtained. Sidne}^ himself was prevail- 
ed upon to present a second brief petition to the king, 
praying that his sentence might be remitted by suffer- 
ing him to go beyond seas on giving security never to 
return to England. The petition, however, was denied ; 
and the prisoner, who now expected nothing from the 
mercy of his persecutors, calmly and courageously 
prepared to meet his fate. He drew up his " Apology 
in the day of his death," containing a faithful history 
of his trial, and a noble vindication of his principles 
and actions. This paper he deposited with a faithful 
servant, Joseph Ducasse, a Frenchman, whom he had 
brought with him into England, and who, unlike his 
rich and powerful relatives, never deserted him. He 
also drew up a briefer statement, containing the sub- 
stance of his " Apology," for the purpose of delivering 
it to the sheriff on the scaffold, in lieu of any speech 
to the multitude that might be expected of him. A 
copy of it he deposited for safe keeping with a friend, 
fearful that the pfficer might suppress this vindication 
of his memory. It closes with an impressive and 
solemn invocation to Heaven to avert from the nation 
the evils that threatened it, and to forgive the prac- 
tices that had brought him to the scaffold. Nor was 
the noble cause for which he suffered forgotten or dis- 
avowed with his latest breath : '' Grant that I may 
die glorifying thee for all thy mercies, and that at the 
last thou hast permitted me to be singled out as a wit- 
12^ 



274 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

ness of thy truth, and even, by the confession of my 
opposers, for that old cause in which I was from my 
youth engaged, and for which thou hast often and 
wonderfully declared thyself." 

Henceforth Sidney resumed his stoicism of charac- 
ter, and manifested the utmost indifference to the 
unjust fate that his enemies had prepared for him. 
The warrant for his execution was at last signed, but 
in compliment to his illustrious family, it is said, the 
most barbarous portions of the sentence for high trea- 
son were remitted, and he was ordered simply to be 
beheaded. When the sheriffs brought it to him, he 
examined it with calmness and unconcern. He told 
them he would not expostulate with them on his own 
account, for the world was now "nothing to him ; but 
he desired them, for their own sakes, to consider how 
guilty they had been iii returning a jury packed by 
the solicitors for the Crown. One of the officers, 
doubtless conscience-stricken at this reproach, wept 
when he heard these words. 

On the 7th day of December, 1683, Sidney was 
executed on Tower Hill. We have a brief account of 
the transaction in the original paper of the sheriff, 
preserved in the state paper office. From it we infer 
that the victim met death with all his constitu- 
tional intrepidity and insensibility to fear ; with the 
stoicism of a Cato, and yet with the confidence and 
hope of one who had made his peace with G-od. Unlike 
Vane, he undertook to make no harangue, nor did he 
enter into any justification of his actions on the scaf- 



CHAPTEE VIII. 275 

fold. There was no parade, no display, no effort, as 
there was no shrinking or fear on the part of the vic- 
tim. He uttered bat a word or two to his execution- 
ers, but they were strikingly impressive and full of 
meaning, and such as were calculated to live long in 
the memories of those who heard him. 

The sheriffs asked him at the tower if he had any 
friends to accompany him on the scaffold ; he said 
none but two servants of his brother. 

They conducted him on foot up to the scaffold. He 
said nothing in all his passage. 

As he came up to the scaffold, he said, " I have 
made my peace with God, and have nothing to say to 
men ; but here is a paper of what I have to say." 

On being asked by the sheriff if he should read it, 
he answered in the negative, and told him if he re- 
fused to take the paper he would tear it. To a ques- 
tion of the officer if the writing was in his own hand, 
he replied, " Yes." 

Sidney then took off his hat, coat, and doublet, 
gave the customary fee to the executioner, and said, 
'' I am ready to die ; I will give you no farther trou- 
ble." Observing the executioner grumble, as though 
he had given him too little, he directed one of his 
servants to give him a guinea or two more, which he 
did. The victim then knelt down for a few moments 
in silence, apparently engaged in devotion. He then 
calmly laid his head on the block. The executioner, 
as was customary in such cases, asked him if he 
should rise again. «'Not till the Gteneral Resur- 



276 ALGEEXON SIDNEY. 

RECTioN. Strike on," was the laconic and sublime 
reply — the last words that ever passed his lips. The 
sheriff reports that " execution was done at one blow, 
only some skin with a knife the executioner took off, 
and so took up his head and showed it round the scaf- 
fold, which was hung with mourning, and the floor 
also covered with black, and a black coffin." 

His body, by order of the secretary of state, was 
delivered to his brother's servants who accompanied 
him to the scaffold, and was the next day privately 
buried with his ancestors at Penshurst. His remains 
were subsequently removed into a small stone coffin, 
and placed in front of the family vault, with a brief 
inscription engraved on a brass plate, containing only 
his name, his age, and the date of his death. ^ 

The condemnation of Sidney has been universally 
and justly regarded as one of the most atrocious and 
tyrannical acts of the reign of Charles H.t The 
trials of Yane and the regicides, and of Russell and 
Hampden, if they really equalled, did not exceed it, 
ih cold-blooded and almost fiendish malignity. The 
illegality and injustice of the proceedings are, if possi- 
ble, more monstrous than their atrocity. Sidney may 
be regarded as guiltless of any political crime. Tak- 
ing the whole of the testimony of Howard, together 
with the hearsay of the other witnesses, to be abso- 
lutely true, there is no legal evidence of any con- 

=* Meadley's Memoirs. 

t Hume himself speaks of it as " one of the greatest blemishes of 
the present reign." 



CHAPTER vni. 2Y7 

spiracy for an insurrection in which he was to act 
a part ; ^nd even if there were, the conspiracy is of 
precisely the same nature with that which, five years 
later, drove out the tyrant James II., and called 
"William and Mary to the throne. The unsuccessful 
conspiracy becomes a treason ; the successful one a 
benign and necessary revolution ; the crime of the 
proscribed Sidney, is the glory of the patriot states- 
men who wrested the crown from James and placed 
it on the brows of the Prince of Orange. 

The revolution of 1688, which so fully vindicated 
the principles of popular resistance to arbitrary 
power professed by Sidney, placed the constitution 
and liberties of England under the guardianship of 
men who did not fear to do full justice to his memory, 
and to brand, as they deserved, the infamous proceed- 
ings in his trial and execution. One of the earli- 
est acts of William and Mary was the annulling 
of Sidney's attainder on the petition of his brothers, 
Philip, Earl of Leicester, and Henry, Yiscount Sid- 
ney. The act itself recites that he was condemned 
^^ without sufficient legal evidence of any treason 
committed by him^''^ and that " by a partial and un- 
lust construction of the statute, declaring what was 
his treason, was most unjustly and lurongfiilly con- 
victed and attainted, and afterwards executed for high 
treason." The act, besides reversing the attainder, 
orders that " all records and proceedings relating to 
the said attainder be wholly cancelled, and taken off 
the file, or otherwise defaced or obliterated, to the in- 



278 ALGERNON SIDNEY 

tent that the same may 7iot be visible in after ages^ 
It is stated by Lord Brougham, in a speech delivered 
by him in the House of Commons, in June, 1824, 
and in which he denounced "those execrable attain- 
ders of Russell and Sidney, that the committee of the 
House of Lords did not scruple to use the word mur- 
der as applicable to these executions," and that on the 
journals of that house stands the appointment of the 
committee " to inquire of the advisers and prosecutors 
of the murder of Lord Russell and Col. Sidney." 
Such was the first act of public justice done to the 
memory of this illustrious man. From that day to 
this, it has been difficult to find an apologist of the 
bloody deed, either on the score of its justice, its 
legality, or its political necessity. The most eminent 
jurists, the ablest and most enlightened statesmen, 
have united in censuring the act, and in execrating 
the vile instruments of a viler government, by whom 
it was done.*" In so doing, they have but given ex- 
pression to the general judgment of mankind. 'No 
where, perhaps, has that judgment been more truly or 
forcibly pronounced, than on the page of that fragment 
of historyt left by the noblest of British statesmen, 
Charles James Fox. After speaking of the execution 
of Russell as a ''most flagrant violation of law and 

* The learned Sir John Hawles remarks, " He was merely talked to 
death under the notion of a Commonwealth's man, and found guilty by 
a jury who were not much more proper judges in the case than they 
would have been if what he had written had been done by him in 
Syriac or Arabic." 

t History of the Stuarts, p. 47 



CHAPTER VIII. 279 

justice," Mr. Fox observes : ^' The proceedings in Sid- 
ney's case were still more detestable. The production 
of papers containing speculative opinions upon govern- 
ment and liberty, written long before, and, perhaps, 
never even intended to be published, together with 
the use made of those papers, in considering them as 
a substitute for the second witness to the overt act, 
exhibited such a compound of wickedness and non- 
sense, as is hardly to be paralleled in the history of 
juridical tyranny. But the validity of pretences was 
little attended to at that time in the case of a person 
ivhom the court had devoted to destruction ; and upon 
evidence such as has been stated, was this great and 
excellent man condemned to die." 

Even the historian Hume, the ready apologist of 
monarchy in its exercise of arbitrary power, where 
apology is possible, does not undertake to justify or 
to extenuate this act. But in that spirit of adulation 
towards the Stuarts which marks his writings, he 
attempts to throw the blame entirely upon the jury, 
to exonerate the government, and particularly to jus- 
tify the criminal inaction of the king. Hume admits 
that the evidence against Sidney was not legal, and 
adds, that the jury who condemned him were, for 
that reason, very blameable ; " but," he remarks, "that 
the king should interpose to pardon a man who was un- 
doubtedly guilty, who had ever been a most invete- 
rate enemy to the royal family, and who lately had 
even abused the king's clemency, might be an act of 



280 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

heroic generosity^ but can never be regarded as a 
necessary and indispensable duty^'' 

Mr. Hume could not have read very attentively Ihe 
trial of Sidney, and especially the charge of the 
judge, or he never would have held the jury wholly 
responsible for the verdict. Under the circumstances 
of the case, perhaps the jury were not so very blame- 
able ; certainly they could not have rendered any 
other verdict without disregarding totally the direc- 
tions of the court. It will be remembered that Jeffries 
very carefully laid down the proposition, that while 
the jury were the judges of the fact^ they were 
bound to take the law from the court. He then 
charged them, as matter of law, that the writing 
produced was a " sufficient evidence" of treason. 
'' It is not," he says, " upon two^ but it is upon greater 
evidence than tiuenty-two, if you believe this book 
ivas writ by him.'''' The only question of fact, there- 
fore, left to the jury to pass upon, was, whether the 
manuscript had been written by the prisoner or not ; 
everything else having been taken out of their hands 
by the court. We do not see how the jury, under 
their oaths, could find this fact differently from what 
they did. It is true Sidney had objected to the evi- 
dence offered to prove the writing by comparison of 
hands, and the objection, though technical, was a 
valid one ; but the court overruled it, and charged the 
jury that the evidence was competent. Besides, it must 
be admitted that there was something more than mere 
comparison of handwriting ; for the first witness swore 



CHAPTER vin. 281 

that he had seen the prisoner write the endorsements 
upon several bills of exchange. A modern writer, 
eminent as authority upon the law of evidence, =^ 
speaking of this case, remarks, that though it may be 
objected to the testimony of the last two witnesses 
that the endorsements mentioned by them were not 
sufficiently proved to have been written by the pris- 
oner, that objection will not apply to the other wit- 
ness, whose evidence was certainly admissible. The 
ignorant and deluded jury, therefore, whom alone 
Mr. Hume considers blameable, were, in reality, excus- 
able, if not justifiable. The only fact left for them to 
find, they found affirmatively, upon competent, per- 
haps sufficient evidence ; at all events, no jury in a 
civil case upon the same state of facts, and under the 
charge of the court, could have failed to pronounce 
that the writing was the prisoner's. The bench, 
and not the jury-box, was the effective instrument 
which accomplished the nefarious designs of the gov- 
ernment. Jeffi'ies insisted upon the maxim, " scribere 
est agere''' — "to write is to act," and laid it down as a 
principle of law applicable to this case. Upon this 
point he directed the verdict of the jury. The per- 
version of law was monstrous and glaring. The prin- 
ciple had not the remotest application to Sidney's 
case, and has been so laid down by the ablest writers 
on criminal law since that time.t Sidney was lite- 
rally murdered under color of law, and scarcely the 

* Phillips — Law of Evidence, vol, i. p. 485. 
t Foster's Cr. L. 198. 4 Black. Com. 80. 



282 ALGERNON SYDNEY. 

forms of a judicial proceeding were preserved on his 
trial. 

But though the guilt of the jury, if, indeed, they 
may be pronounced guilty at all, was as nothing in 
comparison with the guilt of the corrupt bench before 
which he was tried, yet the infamy and wickedness 
of the bench itself did not exceed, if it equalled, that 
of the government which ordered and directed the 
prosecution. Jeffries, himself, was the mere tool and 
hireling of the court. He was influenced and directed 
upon the trial by the king and his counsellors, par- 
ticularly the Duke of York. He had been appointed 
by the king, who well knew his detestable character, 
to perform just such services as these. For similar 
services he was afterwards rewarded by a ring from 
the hands of his royal master, as a peculiar mark 
of favor. This act of his was looked upon with 
singular complacency by the careless, witty, and 
debonair monarch, and was regarded with savage and 
vindictive exultation by his brother James. The 
memory of Charles Stuart can never be cleansed from 
the stain that has been left upon it by the innocent blood 
of Algernon Sidney. Posterity will hold him as an 
accomplice, if not a principal, in the crime, as he was 
in that other crime, the death of Vane, whom he 
directed his chancellor to put " honestly out of the 
way," even at the trifling expense of violating the 
faith which he had solemnly pledged. And yet such 
is the monarch, whose conduct in refusing to interpose 
his pardon upon a conviction which his creatures had 



CHAPTEE vm. 283 

so infamously procured, is not only palliated but justi- 
fied by a historian so eminent, and in some respects 
so impartial, as Mr. Hume. The indignant comment 
upon this passage, by the illustrious statesman whose 
words we have just quoted, may be properly added : 
*' As well might we palliate the murders of Tiberius, 
who seldom put to death his victims without a pre- 
vious decree of the senate. The moral of all this 
seems to be, that whenever a prince can, by intimi- 
dation, corruption, illegal evidence, or other such 
means, obtain a verdict against a subject whom he 
dislikes, he may cause him to be executed without 
any breach of indispensable duty — nay, that it is an 
act of heroic generosity if he spares him." 



CHAPTEE IX. 

The writings of Sidney — Introductory remarks — Extracts — Common 
notions of liberty are derived from nature — Men are by nature free — 
Choice of forms of government originally left to the people — The 
social contract considered — Such as enter into society in some degree 
diminish their liberty — The natural equality of man — Virtue only 
gives a preference of one man to another — There is no hereditary 
right of dominion — Men join together and frame greater or less socie- 
ties, and give them such forms and laws as they please — They who 
have the right of choosing a king, have the right of making a king — 
As to the forms of government — Those best which comprise the three 
simple elements — Democracy considered — Sidney in favor of a popu- 
lar or mixed government — Civil governments admit of changes in 
their superstructure — Man's natural love of liberty is tempered by 
reason — Seditions, tumults, and wars considered — In what cases justi- 
fied — When necessary to overthrow a tyranny, or depose a wicked 
magistrate— The right of insurrection traced to the social contract-^ 
The contracts between the magistrates and the nations which created 
them, were real, solemn, and obligatory — Same subject continued — 
The general revolt of a nation cannot be called a rebellion — Duties of 
magistrates as representatives of the people — No people that is not 
free can substitute delegates — The representative system — Legislative 
power not to be trusted in the hands of any who are not bound to 
obey the laws they make — Reflections on the writings and political 
opinions of Sidney — The sincerity of his motives — His religious sen- 
timents — His private character — Conclusion. 

In bringing to a close the narrative of the public 
career of Algernon Sidney, little remains to be added 



CHAPTER IX. 285 

respecting a character whose best commentary is to 
be found in the actions of a life of entire and rigid 
consistency, and whose finest illustration is in his 
published correspondence and other writings. His 
polical opinions, his sentiments respecting government, 
human rights and public liberty, have already in the 
progress of this work been freely discussed. They 
will be more fully understood by the extracts from his 
once celebrated Discourses concerning Government, 
contained in the present chapter. These extracts have 
been made rather with the view of illustrating Sidney's 
opinions than of presenting a connected chain of his 
argument, or of doing full justice to the subject mat- 
ter of the discourses. The plan of our work necessa- 
rily forbids the idea of attempting to do more than to 
glean here and there from these writings a few general 
truths and maxims, and to present such brief passages 
only as will serve to convey to the mind of the reader, 
in Sidney's own language, his views of popular liberty, 
and of the origin and ground of government. 

A few remarks in relation to the nature and object 
of the work, may be properly made here. The book 
is an answer to Sir Robert Filmer's Patriarcha, and 
is designed to refute that absurd theory of government 
which, under the name of the patriarchal system, 
was so resolutely asserted under the Stuart dynasty, 
and was never finally abandoned in England, until the 
last of that hapless family was driven from the throne 
by the Revolution of 1688. The ideas upon which 
the work of Sidney was based, were first promulgated 



286 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

in the reign of James I,, and were strenuously insisted 
upon by the high churchmen and obsequious courtier 
of that day. It was maintained that a hereditary 
monarchy, as opposed to a limited or popular govern- 
ment, was instituted by the Supreme Being ; that the 
authority of the hereditary prince was absolute, his 
person was sacred, and his throne hedged round by a 
higher power than constitutions or the will of the 
nation. Passive obedience to the will of the sovereign, 
and non-resistance on the part of the people, were the 
doctrines inculcated by this theory. The king could 
do no wrong ; or as James I. expressed it — " to con- 
test the power of kings is to dispute the power of 
Grod."* The most celebrated philosoper of his age, 
Thomas Hobbes, pushed this theory still further, and 
maintained that the will of the monarch was the 
standard of right and wrong, and that every subject 
ought to be ready to profess any form of religion which 
the reigning dynasty chose to ordain — a theory, Hume 
himself does not hesitate to pronounce the offspring of 
a philosopher, whose politics are fitted only to pro- 
mote tyranny, and whose ethics to encourage licen- 
tiousness. 

It was also maintained by the patriarchal system, 

* It may be said, indeed, with truth, that the doctrine was not even 
then finally abandoned. More than a century afterwards, England, under 
the administration of Pitt, practically asserted it when she joined the 
coalition to put down popular government in France. It was the sys- 
tem of Filmer — the jus divinum — as opposed to the French declaration 
o rights, which turned Europe into one vast encampment and battle 
ground for a quarter of a century. 



CHAPTEE IX. 287 

that the laws which limited the king's prerogative 
were merely temporary concessions, which might, at 
any moment, be revoked, for a king could make no 
contract with his subjects which was binding upon 
him. Primogeniture was regarded as a divine institu- 
tion, and the lineal heir of the legitimate prince was 
entitled to the throne of right, though centuries of ad- 
verse possession intervened. 

These doctrines were exactly suited to the times of 
the Stuarts. James I. claimed to be the heir of 
Egbert and William the Conqueror, and consequently, 
by the law of primogeniture, held the throne by a 
better title than Elizabeth or Henry VII. had done. 
It became the fashion among the statesmen and eccle- 
siastics of that day, who wished to flatter the monarch, 
to promulgate and defend these ideas ; and they con- 
tinued steadily to advance down to the period of the 
breaking out of the Revolution. That event, however, 
checked for a time the farther progress of these absurd 
political dogmas. The prompt and energetic resist- 
ance of the Parliament, the revolt of the nation, and 
the execution of the king, were terrible commentaries 
on the patriarchal system. The active and vigorous 
intellect of the age then launched out into the boldest 
and freest speculation. Milton brought all the strength 
of his great mind to the defence of freedom of intellect, 
freedom of the press, and popular sovereignty : Har- 
rington employed his ingenious pen in sketching his 
plans of an ideal and perfect republic ; while the more 
practical and profound genius of Vane sought out the 



288 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

true foundation of free government — a written consti- 
tution, and equal popular representation. 

The restoration of the n:ionarchy brought with it 
the reign of despotic ideas, the philosophy of Hobbes, 
and the patriarchal theory of government. Sir Robert 
Filmer laying hold of these ideas of the two last 
reigns, moulded them anew into a political system, 
which he published to the world, and which found 
singular favor with the enthusiastic royalists. It was 
in answer to this work of Filmer that Sidney's dis- 
courses upon government were written. It is remark- 
able as being one of the earliest if not the first com- 
plete and systematic treatise, by any English writer, 
on the origin and ground of government, which main- 
tains the true principles of civil and religious liberty 
— traces the origin of all just power to the people — 
vindicates the right of the nation to frame its own 
laws and institutions, and defends the doctrine of the 
*' social compact" in opposition to that of hereditary 
tyranny ordained by a higher law than the popular 
will 

At first glance it is almost a matter of amazement 
that a theory so absurd and inconsistent as the patri- 
archal system^ should have seriously occupied a mind 
like Sidney's in its refutation. But our wonder ceases 
when we find the dogmas of Filmer universally dis- 
seminated throughout the kingdom. They were 
avowed in the Parliament, proclaimed from the bench, 
taught in the church and universities. Doctrines like 
Sidney's were looked upon by some with horror as re- 



CHAPTEE IX. 289 

volutionary or treasonable ; by others with an aversion 
and contempt, such as the highest-toned conservative 
of our day entertains for the doctrines of Fourier. 
Long after the discourses concerning government 
were written, and but a few years before they were 
first published to the world, the public mind of 
England yet succumbed to the monstrous tenets of the 
patriarchal system. The pulpits of the established 
church resounded with homilies against the sin of 
revolution, and with lessons inculcating the principles 
of non-resistance. Jeffries, from the bench in "West- 
minster Hall declared that by the common law and 
statutes of England the principles of Sidney were 
treasonable ; and on the very day of Russell's death, 
the university of Oxford by a solemn public act adop- 
ted the doctrines of Filmer, and ordered the political 
works of Buchanan, Milton, and Baxter to be burned.* 
It was but a few years after this, when the violence 
and tyranny of James II. created a revolution in the 
public mind which drove that monarch from his king- 
dom, and practically overturned the whole pernicious 
theory of government which the high tories and 
churchmen of that day had advocated. The practical 
working of the system under the last of the house of 
Stuart was too much for the warmest disciple of 
Filmer to endure. Even the loyalty of the Church of 
England was shaken, and from preaching passive 
obedience, it set the example of resistance to the royal 
prerogative. The Parliament, on the abdication of 

* Macaulay, Hist. Eng. vol. I. p. 97. 

13 



290 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

James, embodied in a solemn act Sidney's funda- 
mental idea of popular sovereignty, by declaring that 
James II. had endeavored "to subvert the constitution 
of the kingdom by breaking the original contract 
between king and people." Despite the doctrine 
of legitimacy the throne was declared vacant. The 
Parliament, too, reversed the law laid down by Jeffries 
in the king's bench, by annulling the attainder of 
Sidney, and declaring that he was most unjustly 
and wrongfully convicted and executed for high 
treason. 

It was then=^ that the political writings of Sidney 
were published to the world, and from that day they 
have been read, studied, and admired by the most en- 
lightened statesmen and civilians. 

In his preface to the first edition, Toland remarks 
that Sidney left a large and a lesser treatise written 
against the principles contained in Filmer's book. It 
was a portion of the smaller treatise that had been 
produced in evidence against him on the trial. It was 
there said that the smaller treatise neither was, and 
probably never would have been finished. The pub- 
lished discourses on government comprise only the 
larger treatise. 

With these explanatory remarks we present to the 
reader such passages from the work as will serve to 
illustrate the opinions of Sidney and the political 

* The work first appeared in 1698. It was published by Toland, 
who also collected and published INIilton's prose works and Harrington's 
Oceana. &<'. 



CHAPTER tX. 291 

system he advocated. It opens with the following 
appropriate introduction : — 

"Having lateJy seen a book entitled " Patiiarcha," written by 
Sir Robert Filmer, concerning the universal and undistinguished 
right of all kings, I thought a time of leisure might be well em- 
ployed in examining his doctrine, and the questions arising from 
it, which seem so far to concern all mankind, that, besides the in- 
fluence upon our future life, they may be said to comprehend all 
that in this world deserves to be cared for. If he say true, there 
is but one government in the world that can have anything of jus- 
ticeinit; and those who have hitherto been esteemed the best 
and wisest of mankind, for having constituted commonwealths or 
kingdoms, and taken much pains so to proportion the powers of 
several magistracies, that they might all concur in procuring the 
public good ; or so to divide the powers between the magistrates 
and people, that a well regulated harmony might be preserved in 
the whole, were the most unjust and foolish of men. They were 
not builders, but overthrows, of government. Their business 
was to set up aristocratical, democratical, or mixed governments, 
in opposition to that monarchy, which, by the immutable laws of 
God and nature is imposed upon mankind, or presumptuously to 
put shackles upon the monarch, who, by the same laws, is to be 
absolute and uncontrolled." 

****** 
" According to Sir Robert Filmer," Sidney continues, " men are 
not to inquire what conduces to their own good. God and nature 
have put us into a way from which we are not to swerve. We 
are not to live to him, nor to ourselves, but to the master that he 
halh set over us. One government is established over all, and no 
limits can be set to the power of the person that manages it. This 
is the prerogative, or as another author of the same stamp calls it, 
' the royal charter granted to kings by God: " 



* # # 



* * * 



I have been sometimes apt to wonder how things of this na- 



292 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

ture could enter into the head of any man ; or if no wickedness or 
folly be so great but some may fall into it, I could not well con- 
ceive why they should publish it to the world. But these thoughts 
ceased when I considered that a people, from all ages in love with 
liberty, and desirous to maintain their own privileges, could never 
be brought to resign them, unless they were made to believe that 
in conscience they ought to do it ; which could not be unless they 
were also persuaded that there was a law set to all mankind, 
which none might transgress, and which put the examination of 
all those matters out of their power. This is our author's work. 
By this it will appear whose throne he seeks to advance, and 
whose servant he is^ whilst he pretends to serve the king." 

The common notions of liberty are not from school divines^ hit 
from nature. — Extract, Chap. I., Sec. 1. 

In this section, Sidney refutes the doctrine of 
Filmer, that the notions men entertain of liberty are 
derived from the schoolmen and from the teachings 
of the Puritan divines. After some general remarks 
on this point, he thus vindicates the natural right of a 
people to govern themselves : — 

" Did the people make the king, or the king make the people ? 
Is the king for the people, or the people for the king ? Did God 
create the Hebrews that Saul might reign over them? or did they, 
from an opinion of procuring their own good, ask a king that 
might judge them and fight their battles? If God's interposition, 
which shall be hereafter explained, do alter the case, did the Ro- 
mans make Romulus, Numa, Tullus, Hostilius, and Tarquinius 
Priscus, kings, or did they make or beget the Romans ? If they 
were made kings by the Romans, 'tis certain they that made them 
sought their own good in so doing ; and if they were made by, 
and for the city and people, I desire to know if it was not better 
that when their successors departed from the end of their insti- 



CHAPTER IX. 293 

tution, by endeavoring to destroy it, or all that was good in it, they 
should be censured and rejected, than be permitted to ruin that people 
for whose good they were created. Was it more just that Caligula 
or Nero should be suffered to destroy the poor remains of the Ro- 
man nobility and people, with the nations subject to that empire, 
than that the race of such monsters should be extinguished, and a 
great part of mankind, especially the best, against whom they 
were most fierce, preserved by their deaths. 

" I presume our author thought these questions might be easily 
decided, and that no more was required to show the forementioned 
assertions were not all desperate, than to examine the ground of 
them ; but he seeks to divert us from this inquiry, by proposing 
the dreadful consequences of subjecting kings to the censures of 
their people, whereas no consequence can destroy any truth ; and 
the worst of this is, that if it were received, some princes might 
be restrained from doing evil, or punished if they will not be re- 
strained. We are, therefore, only to consider whether the people, 
senate, or any magistracy, made by and for the people, have, or 
can have, such a right; for if they have, whatsoever the con- 
sequences may be, it must stand 5 and as the one tends to the good 
of mankind, in restraining the lusts of wicked kings^ the other 
exposes them, without remed}^, to the fury of the most savage of 
all beasts. lam not ashamed in this to concur with Buchanan, 
Calvin, or Bellarmine, and, without envy, leave Filmer and his 
associates the glory of maintaining the contrary." 



" The productions of Laud, Manwaring, Sibthorp, Hobbes, Fil- 
mer, and Heylin, seem to have been reserved as an additional curse 
to complete the shame and misery of our age and country. Those 
who had wit and learning, with something of ingenuity and 
modesty, though they believed that nations might possibly make 
an ill use of their power, and were very desirous to maintain the 
caui^e of kings, as far as they could put any good color upon it ; 
yet never denied that some had suffered justly (which could not 
be, if there were no power of judging them), nor ever asserted 



294 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

anything that might arm them with an irresistible power of doing 
mischief — animate them to persist in the most flagitious courses, 
with assurance of perpetual impunity, or engage nations in an 
inevitable necessity of suffering all manner of outrages. But 
Filmer, Heylin, and their associates, scorning to be restrained by 
such considerations, boldly lay the axe to the root of the tree, 
and rightly enough affirm, ' that the whole fabric of that which 
they call popular sedition, would fall to the ground if the prin- 
ciple of natural liberty were removed. And, on the other hand, 
it must be acknowledged that the whole fabric of tyranny will be 
much weakened, if we prove that nations have a right to make 
their own laws, constitute their own magistrates, and that such as 
are so constituted owe an account of their actions to those by 
whom and for whom they were appointed." 

God leaves lo man the choice of forms in government^ and 
those who constitute one form may abrogate it. — Chap. I., 
Sec. 5. 

" But Sir Robert ' desires to make observations on Bellarmine's 
words, before he examines or refutes them.' And, indeed, it were 
not possible to make such stuff of his doctrine as he does, if he 
had examined, or did understand it. First, he very wnttily con- 
cludes, 'that if, by the law of God, the power be immediately in 
the people, God is the author of democracy.' And why not as 
well as of a tyranny ? Is there anything in it repugnant to the 
being of God? Is there more reason to impute to God Caligula's 
monarchy than the democracy of Athens T or is it more for the 
glory of God to assert his presence with the Ottoman or French 
monarchs, than with the popular governments of the Switzers 
and Grisons 1 Is pride, malice, luxury, and violence so suitable 
to his being, that they who exercise them are to be reputed his 
ministers ? And is modesty, humility, equality, and justice so 
contrary to his nature, that they who live in thera should be 
thought his enemies ! Is there any absurdity in saying that since 
God in goodness and mercy to mankind hath, with an equal hand, 



CHAPTER IX. 295 

given to all the benefit of liberty, with son-ie measure of under- 
standing how to employ it, it is lawful for any nation, as occasion 
shall require, to give the exercise of that power to one or more 
men, under certain limitations and conditions^ or to retain it to 
themselves if they think it good for them ? If this may be done, 
we are at an end of all controversies concerning one form of gov- 
ernment established by God, to which all mankind must submit; 
and we may safely conclude that, having given to all men, in 
some degree, a capacity of judging what is good for themselves, 
he hath granted to all likewi<ie a liberty of inventing such forms as 
please them best, without favoring one more than another. 

The conclusion here arrived at is precisely that 
Vv'hich the statesmen who achieved our own indepen- 
dence laid down in the " Declaration" as an elemen- 
tary political truth, namely, that governments are 
instituted among men deriving' their just pomers. 
from the consent of the governed. The same simple 
and direct proposition was subsequently put forth as 
the basis of the French declaration of rights, and 
also in that able manifesto of the national assembly, 
drawn up by Condorcet, and published to the world, 
vindicating the revolution and the right of a people 
to " alter or abolish" a government that had become 
oppressive. This right, which is an obvious conse- 
quence of the doctrine already asserted, Sidney also 
discusses and boldly avows. 

" The next point is subtle, and he thinks thereby to have brought 
Bellarmine, and those who agree with his principles, to a nonplus. 
He doubts who shall judge of the lawful cause of changing the 
government, and says — ' It is a pestilent conclusion to place that 
power in the multitude.' But why should this be esteemed pesti- 
lent, or to whom "^ If the allowance of such a power in th^. 



296 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

Senate was pestilent to Nero, it was beneficial to mankind ; and 
the denial of it, which would have given to Nero an opportunity 
of continuing in his villanies, would have been pestilent to the 
best men, whom he endeavored to destroy, and to all others that 
received benefit from them. But this question depends upon ano- 
ther ; for if governments are constituted for the pleasure, great- 
ness, or profit of one man, he must not be interrupted ; for the 
opposing of his will, is to overthrow the institution. On the other 
side, if the good of the governed be sought, care must be taken 
that the end be accomplished, though it be with the prejudice of 
the governor. If the power be originally in the multitude, and 
one or more men to whom the exercise of it, or part of it, was com- 
mittecl, had no more than their brethren, till it was conferred on 
him or them, it cannot be believed that rational creatures would 
advance one or a few of their equals above themselves, unless in 
consideration of their own good ; and then I find no inconvenience 
in leaving to them a right of judging, whether this be duly per- 
formed or not. We say in general, ' he that institutes may abro- 
gate,''* most especially when the institution is not only by, but for, 
himself. If the multitude therefore do institute the multitude may 
abrogate ; and they themselves, or those who succeed in the same 
right, can only be fit judges of the performance of the ends of the 
institution. Our author may perhaps say, the public peace may 
be hereby disturbed ; but he ought to know there can be no peace 
where there is no justice; nor any justice, if the government in- 
stituted for the good of a nation, be turned to its ruin. But in 
plain English, the inconvenience with which such as he endeavor 
to affright us, is no more than that he or they, to whom the power 
is given, may be restrained or chastised if they betray their trust." 

Such as enter int,o society , must, in some degree, diminish their 
liberty. — Chap. I., Sect. 9. 

" Reason leads them to this ; no one man or family is able to 
=* Cujus est instituere, ejus est abrogare. 



CHAPTEK IX. 297 

provi(!e that which is requisite for their convenience or security, 
whilst every one has an equal right to everything, and none ac- 
knowledges a superior to determine the controversies that, upon 
such occasions, must continually arise, and will, probably, be so 
many and great, that mankind cannot bear them. Therefore, 
though I do not believe that Bellarmine said a commonwealth could 
not exercise its power, for he could not be ignorant that Rome 
and Athens did exercise theirs, and that all the regular kingdoms 
in the world are commonwealths; yet there is nothing of absurdity 
in saying, that man cannot continue in the perpetual and entire 
fruition of the liberty that God hath given him. The liberty of 
one is thwarted by that of anothe. ; and whilst they are all equal, 
none will yield to any otherwise than by a general consent. This is 
the ground of all just governments; for violence or fraud can 
create no right, and the same consent gives the form to them all, 
how much soever they differ from each other. Some small num- 
bers of men, living within the precincts of one city have, as it 
were, cast into a common stock, the right which they had of gov- 
erning themselves and children, and by common consent joining 
in one body, exercised such power over every single person as 
seemed beneficial to the whole ; and this men call perfect 'demo- 
cracy.' Others chose rather to be governed by a select number of 
such as excelled most in wisdom and virtue ; and this according to 
the signification of the word was called 'aristocracy.' Or, when 
one man excelled all others, the government was put into his hands 
under the name of ' monarchy.' But the wisest, best, and far 
the greatest part of mankind, rejecting these simple species, did 
form governments mixed or composed of the three, as shall be 
proved hereafter, which commonly received their respective denomi- 
nation from the great part that prevailed, and did deserve praise or 
blame as they were well or ill proportioned." 

" If men are naturally free, such as have wisdom and understand- 
ing will always frame good governments ; but if they are born 
under the necessity of a perpetual slavery, no wisdom can be of 
13* 



298 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

use to them; but all must forever depend on the will of their lords, 
how cruel, mad, proud, or wicked soever they be." 

In the sncceeding sections of this chapter, Sidney 
examines that portion of the argument of Filmer 
wherein he attempts to base his theory of the divine 
institution of monarchy upon a pretended paternal 
right of the monarch, derived from the same source, 
and having the same sanctions, as the necessary and 
natural authority which a father exercises over his 
children. He thoroughly exposes this fallacy both by 
argument and by copious illustrations drawn from 
history. He shows that there was no shadow of such 
paternal kingdom among the Hebrews, nor was it 
found among any of the enlightened nations of an- 
tiquity. The Grreeks and Romans chose those to be 
kings who excelled in the virtues most beneficial to 
civil societies. The absurdity of the doctrine that a 
right of dominion by the law of nature is hereditary 
is shown, and the principle advocated that the people 
is the source of all political authority. The following 
passage occurs in the last section of this chapter under 
the head *' All just magisterial power is from the 
peopled 

•'Upon the same grounds we may conclude that no privilege is 
peculiarly annexed to any form of government; but that all magis- 
trates are equally the ministers of God, who perform the work for 
which they were instituted; and that the 'people which institutes 
theiUy may proportion^ regulate, and terminate their power as to 
timey measure, and number of persons, as seems most convenient to 
themselves, which can be no other than their own good. For it can- 
not be imagined that a multitude of people should send for Numa, 



CHAPTEE IX. 299 

or any other person to whom they owed nothing, to reign over 
them, that he might live in glory and pleasure , or for any other 
reason than that it might be good for them and their posterity. 
This shows the work of all magistrates to be always and every- 
where the same, even the doing of justice, and procuring the wel- 
fare of those that create them." 

The second chapter of the Discourses on Govern- 
ment opens with some remarks on the natural equality 
of man. Having proved men by nature free, the 
author next undertakes to prove them equal ; not 
indeed equal in physical strength, or in their mental 
or moral faculties, but endowed with an equality of 
rights. The distinctions of society, he contends, are 
artificial. Virtue, not birth, should exalt one man y 
above another, and an hereditary prerogative of domi- 
nion, is at once opposed to reason, revelation, and com- 
mon sense. 

That it is natural for nations tu govern^ as to choose govenwrs ; 
and that virtue only gives a natural jpreference of one man 
above another^ or reason why one should he chosen rather 
than another. — Chap. II., Sec. J. 

"That which I maintain," Sidney remarks in the opening of this 
section, " is the cause of mankind ; which ought not to suffer, 
though champions of corrupt principles have weakly defended, or 
maliciously betrayed it ; and therefore, not at all relying on their 
authority, I intend to reject whatever they say that agrees not with 
reason, scripture, or the approved examples of the best polished 
nations." 

" We have already seen that the patriarchal power resembles 
not the regal in principle or practice ; that the beginning and con- 



300 ALGEEXON SIDNEY. 

tinuancc of regal power was contrary to, and inconsistent with 
the patriarchal; that the first fathers of mankind left all their 
children independent of each other, and in equal liberty of provid 
ing for themselves ; that every man continued in this libert}^, till 
the number so increased that they became troublesome and danger 
ous to each other ; and finding no other remedy to the disorders 
growing or like to grow among them, joined many families into 
one civil body, that they might the better provide for the conve- 
nience, safety, and defence of themselves and their children. 
This was a eolation of every man's private right into a public 
stock ] and no one having any other right than what was common 
to all, except it were that of fathers over their children, they were 
all equally free when their fathers were dead; and nothing could 
induce them to join, and lessen that natural liberty by joining, 
m societies, but the hopes of a public advantage. Such as were 
wise and valiant, procured it by setting up regular governments, 
and placing the best men in the administration; whilst the w^eakest 
and basest fell under the power of the most boisterous and violent 
of their neighbors. Those of the first sort had their root in wis- 
dom and justice, and are called lawful kingdoms or common- 
wealths, and the rules by which they are governed are known by 
the name of laws. These governments have ever been the nurses 
of virtue ; the nations living under them have flourished in peace 
and happiness, or made wars with glory and advantage. Whereas 
the other sort, springing from violence and wrong, have ever gone 
under the odious title of tyrannies, and by fomenting vices, like to 
those from which they grew, have brought shame and misery upon 
those who were subject to them. This appears so plainly in Scrip- 
ture, that the assertors of liberty want no other patron than God 
himself ; and his word so fully justifies what we contend for, that 
it were not necessary to make use of human authority, if our ad- 
versaries did not oblige us to examine such as are cited by them." 
****** 
"That equality which is just among equals, is just only among 
equals. But such as are base, ignorant, vicious, slothful, or 
cowardly, are not equal in natural or acquired virtues to the 



CHAPTER IX. 301 

generous, wise, valiant, and industrious; nor equally useful to the 
societies in which the)' live. They cannot, therefore, have an 
equal part in the government of them ] they cannot equally provide 
for the common good ; and it is not a personal, but a public 
benefit, that is sought in their constitution and continuance. 
There may be an hundred thousand men in any army who are all 
equally free; but they only are naturally most fit to be commanders 
or leaders, who most excel in the virtues required for the right 
performance of those offices; and that not because it is good for 
them to be raised above their brethren, but because it is good for 
their brethren to be guided by them, as it is ever good to be gov- 
erned by the wisest and the best. If the nature of man be reason, 
detur digniori, in matters of this kind is the voice of nature ; and 
it were not only a deviation from reason, but a most desperate and 
mischievous madness, for a company going to the Indies to give 
the guidance of their ship to the son of the best pilot in the world, 
if he want the skill required in that employment, or to one who 
was maliciously set to destroy them ; and he only can have a 
right, grounded upon the dictates of nature, to be advanced to the 
helm, who best knows how to govern it, and has given the best 
testimonies of his integrity and intentions to employ his skill for 
the good of those that are embarked. But as the work of a 
magistrate, especially if he be the supreme, is the highest, noblest, and 
most difficult that can be committed to the charge of a man, a more 
excellent virtue is required in the person ivho is to be advanced to it, 
than any other; and he that is most excellent in that virtue is 
reasonably and naturally to be preferred before any other. 

Aristotle, having this in view, seems to think that those who 
believed it not to be natural for one man to be lord of all the 
citizens, since a city consists of equals, had not observed that 
inequality of endowments, virtues, and abilities, in men which 
renders some more fit than others for ttie performance of their 
duties, and the work intended. But it will not be found, as I 
suppose, that he did ever dream of a natural superiority that any 



302 algp:iinon Sidney. 

man could ever have in a civil society, unless it be such a superi- 
ority in virtue as most conduces to the public good." 

Sidney then proceeds to examine the argument of 
his adversary derived from the writings of Plato and 
Aristotle, and shows, conclusively, by quotations from 
these writers, that their authority is against the 
doctrine which Filmer advocates, of a natural ine- 
quality of men by birth, and a hereditary right of 
dominion. While, however, refuting the positions of 
Filmer from the pages of the very authors quoted by 
him, Sidney does not undertake to defend all the 
speculative political opinions of these authors. On 
this point he adds : — 

"'Tis not my work to justify these opinions of Plato, and hi 
scholar Aristotle. They were men, and though wise and learned, 
subject to error. If they erred in these points, it hurts not me, nor 
the cause I maintain, since T make no other use of their books 
than to show the impudence and prevarication of those who gather 
small scraps out of good books to justify their assertions concern- 
ing such kings as are known amongst us ; which being examined 
are found to be wholly against them, and if they were followed 
would destroy their persons and power." 

Freemen join together , and frame greater or lesser societies^ and 
give such forms to them as best please themselves. — Chap. II, , 
Sec. 5. 

'' But since he (Filmer) raises a question, ' whether the supreme 
power be so in the people that there is but one and the same power 
in all the people of the world, so that no power can be granted 
unless all men upon the earth meet and agree to choose a govern- 
or,' I think it deserves to be answered, and I might do it by prop;. ■ 



CHAPTER IX. 303 

ing a question to him : whether, in his opinion, the empire of the 
world doth by the laws of God and nature belong to one man, and 
who that man is 1 Or how it came to be so divided, as we have 
ever known it to have been, without such an injury to the universal 
monarch as can never be repaired ? But intending to proceed more 
candidly and not to trouble myself with Bellarmine or Laurez. I 
say, that they who place the power in a multitude, understand a 
multitude composed of freemen, who think it for their convenience 
to join together and to establish such laws and rules as they oblige 
themselves to observe : which multitude, whether it be great or small, 
has the same right, because ten men are as free as ten millions of 
men j and though it may be more prudent in some cases to join with 
the greater than the smaller number, because there is more strength, 
it is not so always : but, however, every man must therein be his own 
judge, since, if he mistake, the hurt is only to himself ; and the ten 
may as justly resolve to live together, frame a civil society, and oblige 
themselves to laws, as the greatest number of men that ever met 

together in the world " 

* # * * * * 

"By this means every number of men, agreeing together, and 
framing a society, became a complete body, having all power in 
themselves over themselves, subject to no other human law than 
their own. All those that compose the society being equally free 
to enter into it or not, no man could have any prerogative above 
others, unless it were granted by the consent of the whole ; and 
nothing obliging them to enter into this society, but the considera- 
tion of their own good, that good, or the opinion of it, must have 
been the rule, motive, and end of all that they did ordain. It is 
lawful therefore for any such bodies to set up one or a few men 
to govern them, or to retain the power in themselves; and he or 
they who are set up, having no other power but what is conferred 
upon them by that multitude, whether great or small, are truly by 
them made what they are ; and by the law of their own creation, 
are to exercise those powers according to the proportion, and to 
the ends for which they were given. These rights, in several 
nations and ages, have been variously executed in the establishment 



304 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

of monarchies, aristocracies, democracies, or mixed governments 
according to the variety of circumstances; and the governmenta 
have been good or evil according to the rectitude or pravity of their 
institutions, and the virtue and w^isdom, or the folly and vires of 
those to whom the power was committed ; but the end w^hich was 
ever proposed, being the good of the public, they only performed 
their duty who procured it according to the laws of the society 
which were equally valid as to their own magistrates, whether 
they were few or many." 

They ivho have- a right of choosing a king have the right of 
making a king. — Chap II., Sec. 6. 

"Though the right of magistrates essentially depends upon the 
consent of those they govern, it is hardly worth our pains to 
examine, ' whether the silent acceptation of a governor by part of 
the people be an argument of their concurring in the election of 
him ; or by the same reason the tacit consent of the whole 
commonwealth may be maintained ;' for, when the question is 
concerning right, fraudulent surmises are of no value; much less 
will it from thence follow, ' that a prince commanding by succes- 
sion, conquest or usurpation, may be said to be elected by the 
people ;' for evident marks of dissent are often given. Some 
declare their hatred ; others murmur more privately; many oppose 
the governor or government, and succeed according to the measure 
of their strength, virtue, or fortune. I\Ian w^ould resist but 
cannot; and it w^ere ridiculous to say, that the inhabitants of 
Greece, the kingdom of Naples, or duchy of Tuscany, do tacitly 
assent to the government of the Great Turk, King of Spain, or 
Duke of Florence, when nothing is more certain than that those 
miserable nations abhor the tyrannies they are under; and if they 
were not mastered by a power that is much too great for them, 
they would soon free themselves. And those who are under such 
governments do no more assent to them, though they may be 
silent, than a man approves of heing robbed, when, without saying 
a word he delivers his purse to a thief that he knows to be too 
strong for him. 



CHAPTER IX. 305 

"It is not therefore the bare sufferance of a government when a 
disgust is declared, nor a silent submission where the power of 
opposing is wanting, that can imply an assent or election, and 
create a right ; but an explicit act of approbation when men have 
ability and courage to resist or deny." 

Having given the foregoing brief extracts to illus- 
trate Sidney's views on the origin of government and 
the source of political power — the institution of 
society — the freedom of man in a state of nature — the 
concessions of personal liberty he makes when he 
enters into the social compact for the mutual benefit 
and advantage of all — the natural equality of rights 
as well as freedom of men, includinsf their ri2:ht to 
choose their own magistrates from among those whose 
virtues and talents best qualify them to administer the 
affairs of a free state — we pass on to present one or 
two extracts illustrative of the author's opinion as to 
what constitutes the best government — his partiality 
for popular institutions — and his views of the necessity 
and ri£:ht of altering: or chansrinof a frame of orovern- 
ment to suit the exigencies of the times. In the 
following passage, it will be seen, he takes a distinction 
between a pure democracy^ i. e.., where the people 
collectively in popular assembly enact the laws — and 
a mixed popular or representative government. 

The lest governments of the world have been co?)iposed of 
monarchy^ aristocracy^ and democracy. — Chap. II., Sec. 16. 

" Our authors cavils concerning, I know not what, vulgar 
opinions, that democracies were introduced to curb tyranny, de- 



306 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

serve no answer; for our question is, whether one form of gov- 
ernment be prescribed to us by God and nature, or we are left, 
according to our own understanding, to constitute such as seem 
best to ourselves. As for democracy, he may say what pleases 
him of it ; and I believe it can suit only with the convenience of 
a small town accompanied with such circumstances as are seldom 
found. But this by no way obliges men to run into the other ex- 
treme, inasmuch as the variety of forms between mere democracy 
and absolute monarchy, is almost infinite ; and if I should under- 
take to say there never was a good government in the world that 
did not consist of three simple species of monarchy, aristocracy, 
and democracy, I think I might make it good." 

Sidney here illustrates his proposition by comparing 
the government of the Hebrews, of Sparta, Athens, 
Rome, the Italian Republics, G-erraany, Poland, etc., 
and adds : — 

" Some nation?, not liking the name of king, have given such 
a power as kings enjoyed in other places, to one or more magis- 
trates ; either limited to a certain time, or left to be perpetual, as 
best pleased themselves. Others, approving the name, made the 
dignity purely elective. Some have, in their elections, principally 
regarded one family as long as it lasted ; others considered nothing 
but the fitness of the person, and reserved to themselves a liberty 
of taking where they pleased. Some have permitted the crown 
to be hereditary as to its ordinary course, but restrained the 
power, and instituted officers to inspect the proceedings of kings, 
and to take care that the laws were not violated. Some have con- 
tinued long, and it may be always, in the same form ; others have 
changed it. Some being incensed against their kings, as the Ro- 
mans, exasperated by the villanies of Tarquin, and the Tuscans 
by the cruelties of Mezentius, abolished the name of king; 
others, as at Athens, Sicyon, Argos, Corinth, Thebes, and the 
Latins, did not stay for such extremities, but set up other govern- 
ments when tbey thought it best for themselves, and by this con- 



CHAPTER IX. 307 

duct prevented the evils that usually fall upon other nations when 
their kings degenerate into tyrants, and a nation is brought to 
enter into a war by which all may be lost and nothing can be 
gained which was not their own before. 

"Our author, in pursuance of his aversion of all that is good, 
disapproves this, as if it were not as just for a people to lay aside 
their kings when they receive nothing but evil, and can rationally 
hope for no benefit by them, as for others to set them up in ex- 
pectation of good from them." 

Sidney's preference for a mixed government, com- 
prising the three simple elementary forms, but with a 
popular executive, chosen by the nation, is clearly ex- 
pressed. These views, however, do not in the least 
conflict with the consistency of his prior course in 
support of the Commonwealth, or his stern republican 
principles. The best forms of republican government, 
our own included, are thus constituted. In our own 
institutions, for example, though the democratic ele- 
ment largely preponderates, yet it is found united 
with the other tw^o— -the monarchic in the person of 
the executive, and the conservative or aristocratic* in 
the senate. Sidney's views upon the impracticability 
of a pure democracy as the government of a large 
nation, are strictly philosophical. It would do for the 
cabin of the Mayflower, but was not found to answer, 
after a few years, for the little colony of Massachu- 
setts. Elsewhere the author says: — 

" As to popular government in the strictest sense (that is pure 
democracy where the people in themselves, and by themselves, 
perform all that belongs to government), I know of no such 

* Sidney uses this word also in its pure sense — aristos, the best. 



308 ALGEENON SID1!^T 

thing, and if it be in the world have nothing to say for it. In 
asserting the liberty generally, as I suppose granted by God to all 
mankind, I neither deny that so many as think fit to enter into a 
society, may give so much of their power as they please to one or 
more men for a time, or perpetually to them and their heirs, ac- 
cording to such rules as they prescribe ; nor approve the disorders 
that must arise if they keep it entirely in their own hands. And 
looking upon the several governm.ents which, under different forms 
and names have been regularly constituted by nations, as so many 
undeniable testimonies that they thought it good for themselves 
and their posterity so to do, I infer that as there is no man who 
w^ould not rather choo^-e to be governed by such as are just, indus- 
trious, valiant, and wise, than by those that are wicked, slothful, 
cowardl}', and foolish ; and to live in society with such as are 
qualified like those of the first sort, rather than with those who 
will always be ready to commit all mannei of villanies, or want 
experience, strength, or courage to join in repelling the injuries 
that are offered by others ; so there are none who do not accord- 
ing to the measure of understanding they have, endeavor to set up 
those who seem to be best qualified, and to prevent the introduc- 
tion of those vices w^hich render the faith of the magistrate sus- 
pected, or make him unable to perform his duty in providing for 
the execution of justice and the public defence of the state against 
foreign and domestic enemies. For as no man who is not abso- 
lutely mad will commit the care of a flock to a villain that has 
neither skill, diligence, nor courage to defend them, or, perhaps, is 
maliciously set to destroy them, rather than to a stout, faithful, 
and wise shepherd, it is less to be imagined that any would com- 
mit the same error in relation to that society w^hich comprehends 
himself, with his children, friends, and all that is dear to him." — 
From Chap. II., Sec. 19. 

Alluding again to this same branch of his subject 
in another part of the work, he says : — 

"However, more ignorance cannot be expressed than by giving 



CHAPTER IX. 309 

the name of democracy to those governments that are composed 
of the three simple species, as we have proved that all the 2:ood 
ones have ever been : for in a strict sense it can only suit with 
those where the people retain to themselves the administration of 
the supreme power; and more largely, when the popular part, as 
in Athens, greatly overbalances the other two, and that the deno- 
mination is taken from the prevailing part. But our author, if I 
mistake not, is the first that ever took the ancient governments of 
Israel, Sparta, and Rome, or those of England, France, Germany, 
and Spain to be democracies, only because every one of them had 
senates and assemblies of the people, who, in their persons, or by 
their deputies, did join with their chief magistrates in the exercise 
of the supreme power. That of Israel to the time of Saul is 
called by Josephus an aristocracy. The same name is given to 
that of Sparta, by all the Greek authors, and the great contest in 
the Peloponesian war was between the two kinds of government. 
The cities that were governed aristocratically, or desired to be so, 
followed the Lacedemonians; and such as delighted in democracy, 
taking part with the Athenians. In like manner, Rome, England, 
and France were said to be under monarchies; not that their 
kings might do what they pleased, but because one man had a pre- 
eminence above any other." — From Chap. 11, Sec. 30. 

Mixed and popular governments preserve peace, and manage 
icars, letter than absolute monarchies. — Chap. II., Sec. 21. 

" Being no way concerned in the defence of democracy, and 
having proved that Xenophon, Thucydides, and others of the 
ancients, in speaking against the over great power of the common 
people, intended to add reputation to the aristocratical party to 
which they were addicted, and not to set up absolute monarchy, 
which never fell under discourse among them, but as an object of 
scorn and hatred even in itself, and only to be endured by base 
and barbarous people, I may leave our knight, like Don Quixote, 
fighting against the phantasms of his own brain, and saying what 
he pleases against such governments as never were, unless in such 



810 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

a place as San Marino, near Sinigaglia, in Italy, where a hundred 
clowns govern a barbarous rock that no man invades, and relates 
nothing to our question. If his doctrine be true, the monarchy- 
he extols is not only to be preferred before unruly democracy and 
mixed governments, but is the only one that without a gross viola- 
tion of the laws of God and nature, can be established over any 
nation. But having, as I hope, sufficiently proved that God did 
neither institute nor appoint any such to be instituted, nor approve 
those that were; that nature does not incline us to it, and that the 
best as well as the wisest men have always abhorred it; that it 
has been agreeable only to the most stupid and base nations ; and 
if others have submitted to it, they have done so only as to the 
greatest evils brought upon them by violence, corruption, or 
fraud— I may now proceed to show that the progress of it has 
been in all respects suitable to its beginning 

"To this end it will not be amiss to examine our author's 
words : ' Thus,' says he, ' do they paint to the life this beast with 
many heads. Let me give the cypher of their form of government. 
As it is begot by sedition, so it is nourished by crimes : it can 
never stand without wars, either with an enemy abroad, or with 
friends at home.' And in order to this I will not criticise upon the 
terms, though ' cypher of a form, and 'war with friends' may 
justly be called nonsense. But coming to his assertion that popu- 
lar or mixed governments have their birth in sedition, and are after- 
wards vexed with civil or foreign wars, I take liberty to say, that 
whereas there is no form appointed by God or nature, those govern- 
ments only can be called just, which are established by the con- 
sent of nations. These nations may at the first set up popular or 
mixed governments, and unlliout the guilt of sedition^ introduce 
them afterwards^ if that which was first established prove unprofita- 
ble or hurtful to them ; and those that have done 50, have enjoyed 
more justice in times of peace, and managed wars, when occasion re- 
quired, with more virtue and better success than any absolute monar- 
chies have doney 

After laying down the above general proposition, 



CHAPTER IX. 311 

Sidney proceeds to prove its truth, by a copious and 
accurate reference to the history of nations, ancient and 
modern, showing by contrast the advantage constantly 
on the side of popular governments. In the foregoing 
passage, it will be observed, that Sidney asserts the 
right of popular insurrection, or, in his own words, 
the right of a people " without the guilt of sedition, 
to introduce popular or mixed governments." This 
doctrine is constantly recognised throughout the work, 
and we shall hereafter cite some passages in which it 
is more forcibly and directly asserted. We now quote 
from another section, wherein, from the same general 
principle of popular sovereignty, he adduces the abso- 
lute and uncontrollable right of a nation to revise or 
alter its constitution and fundamental laws. 

Good governments admit of changes in the supper structures^ 
whilst the foundations remain unchangeahle. — Chap. II., 
Sec. 17. 

"Though I mention these things,* it is not with a design of 
blaming them, for some of them deserve it not. And it ought to be 
considered that the wisdom of man is imperfect, and unable to 
foresee the effects that may proceed from an infinite variety of acci- 
dents, which, according to emergencies, necessarily require new 
constitutions to prevent or cure the mischiefs arising from them, or 
to advance a good that at the first was not thought on. And as the 
noblest work on which the wit of man can be exercised, were, 
(if it could be done,) to constitute a government that should last 
forever, the next to that is to suit laws to present exigencies, and so 
much OS in the power of man to foresee. He that should resolve to 

* He refers to a number of historical examples of changes in govern- 
ment commented on in a previous part of the section. 



312 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

persist obstinately in the way he first entered upon, or to blame 
those who go out of that in which their fathers had walked, when 
they find it necessary, does, as far as in him lies, render the worst 
of errors perpetual. Changes, therefore^ are unavoidable, and the 
wit of man can go no farther than to institute such, as in relation 
to the forces, manners, nature, religion, or interests of a people, 
and their neighbors, are suitable and adequate to what is seen, or 
apprehended to be seen. He who would oblige all nations, at all 
times, to take the same course, would prove as foolish as a physi- 
cian who should apply the same medicine to all distempers, or an 
architect that would build the same kind of house for all persons, 
without considering their estates, dignities, the number of their 
children, or servants, the time or climate in which they live and 
many other circumstances; or, which is, if possible more sottish, 
a general who should obstinately resolve always to make war 
in the same way, and to draw up his army in the same form 
without examining the nature, number, and strength of his own 
and his enemies forces, or the advantages and disadvantages of the 
ground. But as there may be some universal rules in physic, archi- 
tecture, and military discipline, from which men ought never to 
depart, so there are some in politics also which ought always to be 
observed ; and wise legislatures adhering to them only, will be 
ready to change all others as occasion may require to the public 
good." 

<£. ..U, ^£. AC. ^ ^ 

•A" -Tr 'A* 'Tv- •?¥* "A* 

" That no change of magistracy as to the name, number, or 
form, doth testify irregularity, or bring any manner of prejudice, 
as long as it is done by those who have a right of doing it ; and he 
or they who are created continue within the power of the law to 
accomplish the end of their institution, many forms being in them- 
selves equally good, and may be used, as well one as another, 
according to times and other circumstances." — From Chap. 11.^ 
Sec. 13 

M. ^if. Jjt- •!£. Jt Jt 

'TV' •vV' *«* W 'W ^ 

" It is a rare thing for a city at first to be rightly constituted. 
Men can hardly at once foresee all that may happen in many ages, 



CHAPTER IX. 310 

and the changes that accompany them ought to be provided for "-- 
Ibid, 

****** 

"All human conslitutions are subject to corruption, and must 
per,sh unless they are timely renewed and reduced to their first 
principles."— lij'J. 

****** 
"This being the state of the matter on both sides, we may 
easrly collect, that all governments are subject to corruption and 
decay ; but with this difference, that absolute monarchy is by prin- 
cple led unto, or rooted in it; whereas mixed or popular govern- 
ments are only in a possibility of falling into it. As the first can- 
not subsist unless the prevailing part of the people be corrupted, 
the other must certainly perish unless they be preserved in a lat 
measure free from vices. I doubt whether any better reason can 
beg,ven why there have been, and are, more monarchies than 
popular governments in the world, than that nations are more 
easily drawn into corruption than defended from it ; and I think 
that monarchy can be said to be natural in no other sense than that 
ourdepravea nature is most inclined to that which is worst ••- 
From Chap. II., Sec. 19. 

In the next section Sidney endeavors to prove that 
" man's natural love of liberty is tempered by reason, 
which originally is his nature." The virtuous, he' 
says, are ^yilling to be restrained by the law, and 'the 
vicious to submit to the will of a man, in order to 
gain impunity in offending. Wretches have, in all 
times, endeavored to put the power into the hands of 
a king who might protect them in their villainies, and 
advance them to exorbitant riches or undeserved 
honors ; while the best men, desiring no other riches 
or preferments than what their merits might deserve, 
were content with a due liberty under the protection 
14 



314 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

of a just law. In illustration of this truth, he pointed 
with a finger of scorn to the worthless favorites, the 
corrupt courtiers, and sycophant statesmen who sur- 
rounded the reigning monarch. 

" If this be not sufficient, they may be pleased a little to reflect 
upon the affairs of our own country, and seriously consider 
whether Hyde, Clifford, Falmouth, Arlington, and Danby, could 
have pretended to the chief places, if the disposal of them had been 
in a well-regulated Parliament ? Whether they did most resemble 
Brutus, Publicola, and the rest of the Valerii, the Fabii, Quintii, 
Cornelii, &c., or Narcissus, Pullas, Icetus, Laco, Brunius, and the 
like 1 Whether all men, good or bad, do not favor that state of 
things which favors them ; and such as they are ? whether Cleave- 
land, Portsmouth, and others of the same trade, have attained to 
the riches and honors they enjoy by services to the Common- 
wealth '? And what places Chiffinch, Fox, and Jenkins could pro- 
bably have attained, if our affairs had been regulated as good men 
desire? Whether the old arts of begging, stealing, or bawding, 
or the new ones of informing and trepanning, thrive best under 
one man who may be weak or vicious, and is always subject to 
be circumvented by flatterers, or under the severe scrutiny of a 
senate or people ? In a word, whether they who live by such 
arts, and know no other, do not always endeavor to advance the 
government under which they enjoy, or may hope to attain the 
highest honors, and abhor that in which they are exposed to all 
manner of scorn and punishment ? Which being determined, it 
will easily appear why the worst men have ever been for absolute 
monarchy and the best against it; and which of the two in so 
doing, can be said to desire an unrestrained liberty of doing that 
which is evil." 

Having thus presented, in his own language, some 
ot the views of Sidney as to the absolute right of a 
people originally to institute any system of govern^ 



CHAPTEE IX. 315 

ment which they chose, and subsequently to reform 
and alter the constitution and laws of the state 
through the customary forms of legislation, we shall 
conclude our extracts from this chapter by selecting 
some passages wherein he discusses the doctrine of 
sedition and rebellion, and justifies a general insurrec- 
tion, as a last resort, to overthrow a tyranny, or 
depose a magistrate who usurped the public liberties 
and defies the laws. 

"It may seem strange," he says, "to some that I mention sedi- 
tions, tumults, or wars, but I can find no reason to retract the 
term. God intending that men should live justly with one another 
does certainly intend that he or they who do no wrong, should 
suffer none ; and the law which forbids injuries were of no use 
if no penalties might be inflicted on those who will not obey it. 

" The ways of preventing or punishing injuries are judicial or 
extrajudicial. Judicial proceedings are of force against those 
who submit or may be brought to trial, but are of no effect against 
those who resist, and are of such power that they cannot be con- 
strained. It were absurd to cite a man to appear before a tribunal 
who can awe the judges, or has armies to defend him; and im- 
pious to think that he who has added treachery to his other crimes, 
and usurped a power above the law, should be protected by the 
enormity of his wickedness. Legal proceedings, therefore, are to 
be used when the delinquent submits to the law, and all are just 
when he will not be kept in order by the legal. 

" If the laws of God and man are therefore of no effect, when the 
magistracy is left at liberty to break them ; and if the lusts of 
those who are too strong for the tribunals of justice cannot be 
otherwise restrained than by sedition, tumults, and war, these 

SEDITIONS, TUMULTS, AND WARS, ARE JUSTIFIED BY THE LAWS OF 
GOD AND MAN. 

" I will not take upon me to enumerate all the cases in which this 



316 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

may be done, but content myself with three which have most fre- 
quently given occasion for proceedings of this kind. 

" The first is, when one or more men take upon them the power 
and name of a magistracy to which they are not justly called. 

"The second, when one or more being justly called, continue 
in their magistracy longer than the laws by which they are called 
do prescribe. 

" And the third, when he or they, who are rightly called, do 
assume a power, though within the time prescribed, that the law 
does not give ; or turn that which the law does give to an end 
different and contrary to that which is intended by it.'' 

The author then proceeds to consider each one of 
these cases separately, and at some length. We give 
the following passages from that part of the argument 
applicable to the third head. 

" If I mention some of these cases, every man's experience will 
suggest others of the like nature ; and whoever condemns all 
seditions, tumults, and wars, raised against such princes, must say 
that none are wicked or seek the ruin of their people : which is 
absurd. Caligula wished the pecple had but one neck, that he 
^might cut it off at a blow. Nero set the city on fire : and we 
have known such as have been worse than either of them. They 
must either be suffered to continue in the free exercise of their 
rage, that is, to do all the mischief they design, or must be re- 
strained by a legal, judicial, or extrajudicial way ; and they who 
disallow the extrajudicial do as little like the judicial. They will 
not hear of bringing a supreme magistrate before a tribunal when 
it may be done. ' They will,' says our author, ' depose their 
kings.' Why should they not be deposed if they become enemies 
of their people, and set up an interest in their own persons incon- 
sistent with the public good for the promoting of which they were 
erected 1 If they were created by the public consent for the public 
good, shall they not be removed when they prove to be of public 
damage? If they set up themselves may they not be thrown 



CHAPTER IX. 317 

down ? Shall it be lawful for them to usurp a power over the 
liberty of others, and shall it not be lawful for an injured people 
to resume their own ? If injustice exalt itself, must it be forever 
established T" 

" There must therefore be a right of proceeding judicially or ex- 
trajudicially against all persons who transgress the laws, or else those 
laws and the societies that should subsist by them cannot sland j 
and the ends for which governments are constituted, together with 
the governments themselves, must be overthrown. Extrajudicial 
proceedings by sedition, tumult, or ivar, must take place when the 
persons concerned are of such a power that they cannot be brought 
under the judicial. They who deny this, deny all help against an 
usurping tyrant, or the perfidiousness of a lawfully created magis- 
trate who adds the crimes of ingratitude and treachery to usurpa- 
tion. These, of all men, are the most dangerous enemies to 
supreme magistrates ; for as no man desires indemnity for such 
crimes as are never committed, he that would exempt all from 
punishment, supposes they will be guilty of the worst ; and by 
concluding that the people will depose them if they have the 
power, acknowledge that they pursue an interest annexed to their 
persons, contrary to that of their people, which they would not 
bear if they could deliver themselves from it. Thus showing all 
those governments to be tyrannical, lays such a burden upon those 
who administer them as must necessarily weigh them down to 
destruction. 

" If it be said that the word sedition implies that which is evil 
I answer that it ought not then to be applied to those who seek 
nothing but that M'hich is just ; and though the ways of deliver- 
ing an oppressed people from the violence of a wicked magistrate, 
who has armed a crew of lewd villains, and fatted them with the 
blood and confiscations of such as were most ready to oppose 
him, be extraordinary, the inward righteousness of the act doth 
fully justify the authors: 'He that has virtue and power to save 
a people, can never want a right of doing it.' " 



318 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

In the last section of this chapter Sidney continues 
the argument on this branch of the subject, and traces 
the right of insurrection to the original compact be- 
tween king and people. 

Tht contracts made letween magistrates and the nations which 
created them were real^ solemn^ and ohligatory. — Chap. II., 
Sec. 32. 

" Our author having with big words and little sense inveighed 
against popular and mixed governments, proceeds as if he had 
proved they could not, or ought not, to be. ' If it be,' says he, 
* unnatural for the multitude to choose their governors, or to 
govern, or to partake in the government, what can be thought of 
that damnable conclusion which is made by too many, that the 
multitude may correct or depose their princes if need be '? Surely 
the unnaturalness and injustice of this position cannot sufficiently 
be expressed. For, admit that a king makes a contract or paction 
with his people originally in his ancestors, or personally at his 
coronation (for both these pactions some dream of, but cannot 
offer any proof of either), yet by no law of any nature can a con- 
tract be thought broken, except, first, a lawful trial be had by the 
ordinary judge of the breakers thereof, or else every man may be 
both party and judge in his own case, which is absurd once to be 
thought : for then it will lie in the hands of the headless multi- 
tude, when they please to cast off the yoke of government that 
God hath laid upon them, and to judge and punish them by whom 
they should be judged and punished themselves, 

" To this I first answer briefly, that if it be natural for the mul- 
titude to choose their governors, or to govern, or to participate in 
the government as best pleases themselves, or that there never was 
a government in the world that was not so set up by them in 
pursuance of the power naturally inherent in themselves, what 
can be thought of that damnable conclusion which has been made 
by fools or knaves, that the multitude may not, if need be, correct 
or depose their own magistrates'? Surely the unnaturalness or in- 



CHAPTER IX. 319 

justice of such a position cannot be sufficiently expressed. If 
that were admitted, all the most solemn pacts and contracts made 
between nations and their magistrates, originally or personally, 
and confirmed by laws or oaths, would be of no value. He that 
would break the most sacred bonds that can be amongst men, 
bhould, by perjury and wickedness become judge of his own case, 
and by the worst of crimes procure impunity for all. It would be 
in his power by folly, wickedness, and madness, to destroy the 
multitude which he was created and sworn to preserve, though 
wise, virtuous, and just, and headed by the wisest and justest of 
men, or to lay a yoke on those who, by the laws of God and 
nature, ought to be free." 

* ''^ * # # # 

"Besides, if every people may govern, or constitute and choose 
one or more governors, they may divide the power between sev- ; 
eral men, or ranks of men, allotting to every one so much as they 
please, or retaining so much as they think fit. This has been 
practised in all the governments which, under several forms, have 
flourished in Palestine, Greece, Italy, Germany, France, and Eng- 
land, and the rest of the world. The laws of every place show 
what the power of the respective magistrate is, and by declaring 
how much is allowed to him, declare what is denied ; for he has 
not that which he has not, and is to be accounted a magistrate 
while he exercises that which he has." 

In the third and last chapter of the " Discourses," 
Sidney continues the argument respecting the origin 
and ground of government — examines the reciprocal 
duties and obligations of magistrates and people — 
insists that the law makers are themselves amenable 
to the laws, and traces the legislative authority and 
all political power originally to the social compact. 
The following extract is from the first section of this 
chapter, the object of which is to show that magis- 



320 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

trates can have no just power other than what is given 
by the constitution and laws : — 

" He that neither is, nor has any title to be a king, can come to 
be so only by force or by consent. If by force ^ he does not confer 
a benefit upon the people, but injures them in the most outrageous 
manner. If it be possible, therefore, or reasonable to imagine, 
that one man did ever subdue a multitude, he can no otherwise re- 
se.nble a father than the worst of all enemies, who does the great- 
est mischiefs, resembles the best of all friends who confers the 
most inestimable benefits, and consequently does as justly deserve 
the utmost effects of hatred as the other does of love, respect, and 
service. If hy consent^ he who is raised from amongst the people, 
and placed above his brethren, receives great honors and advan- 
tages, but confers none. The obligations of gratitude are on his 
side, and whatsoever he does in acknowledgment to his benefac- 
tors for their love to him, is no more than his duty, and he can 
demand no more from them than what they think fit to add to the 
favors already received. If more be pretended, it must be by vir- 
tue of that contract, and can no otherwise be proved than by pro- 
ducing it to be examined that the true sense, meaning, and inten- 
tion of it may be known. 

" This contract must be in form and substance according to a 
general rule given to all mankind, or such as is left to the will of 
every nation. If a general one be pretended, it ought to be 
shown that by inquiring into the contents, we may understand the 
the force and extent of it. If this cannot be done, it may justly 
pass for a fiction ; no conclusion can be drawn from it, and we 
may be sure that what contracts never have been made between 
nations and their kings, have been framed according to the will 
of those nations, and, consequently, how many soever they are, 
and whatsoever the sense of any or all of them may be, they can 
oblige no man except those, or, at the most, the descendants of 
those who made them. Whoever, therefore, would persuade us 
that one or more nations are, by virtue of those contracts, bound 
to bear all the insolences of tyrants, is obliged to show that by 



CHAPTEB IX. 321 

those contracts they did for ever indefinitely bind themselves so 
to do, how great soever they might be. 

" I may justly go a step farther and affirmx that if any such 
thing should appear in the world, the folly and turpitude of the 
thing would be a sufficient evidence of the madness of those that 
made it, and utterly destroy the contents of it. But no such hav- 
ing been as yet produced, nor any reason given to persuade a wise 
man that there has ever been any such, at least among civilized 
nations (for whom only we are concerned), it may be concluded 
there never was any, or, if there were, they do not at all relate to 
our subject, and, consequently, that nations still continue in their 
native liberty, and are no otherwise obliged to endure the inso- 
lence of tyrants than they, or each of than, may esteem them tolerable.'''' 

The views of Sidney above expressed as to the po- 
sition and responsibility of a magistrate in a free 
state, raised to honors and office by the voice of the 
people, are admirable and jast. That part of the 
argument which denies that any original contract be- 
tween king and people, whether real or imaginary, 
can justify absolute dominion and hereditary tyranny, 
no one, we think, in our day, will be apt to controvert. 
His conclusion is bold, clear, and irresistible, that 
nations have a natural right to assert their liberty, 
and to throw off the yoke of a tyrant whenever they 
deem it proper. Elsewhere in this chapter ho ex- 
presses himself more fully upon this branch of his 
subject. 

The general revolt of a nation cannot be called a, rebellion. — 
Chap. III., Sec. 36. 

" As impostors seldom make lies to pass in the world without 
putting false names upon things, such as our author endeavors to 
14# 



•^ 



322 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

persuade the people that they ought not to defend their liberties, 
by giving the name of rebellion to the most just and honorable 
actions that have been performed for the preservation of them, and 
to aggravate the matter fear not to tell us that rebellion is like the 
sin of witchcraft. But those who seek after truth will easily find 
that there can he no such thing in the world as the rebellion of a na- 
tion against its own magistrates, and that rebellion is not always an 
evil. That this may appear, it will not be amiss to consider the 
word as well as the thing understood by it, as it is used in an evil 
sense. 

"The word is taken from the Latin rebellare, w^hich signifies no 
more than to renew a war. When a town or province had been 
subdued by the Romans, and brought under their dominion, if they 
violated their faith after the settlement of peace, and invaded their 
masters who had spared them, they were said to rebel. But it had 
been more absurd to apply that word to the people that rose 
against the decemviri, kings, or other magistrates, than to the Par- 
thians, or any of those nations w^ho had no dependence upon 
them ; for all the circumstances that would make a rebellion were 
wanting, the word implying a superiority in them against whom it 
is as well as the breach of an established peace. But though 
every private man, singly taken, be subject to the commands of 
the magistrate, the whole body of the people is'not so, for he is by 
and for the people, and the people is neither by nor for him. The 
obedience due to him from private men, is grounded upon, and 
measured by, the general law ; and that law, regarding the wel- 
fare of the people, cannot set up the interests of one or a few men 
against the public. The whole body, therefore, of a nation, can- 
not be tied to any other obedience than is consistent with the com- 
mon good according to their own judgment; and having never 
been subdued, nor brought to terms of peace with their magis- 
trates, they cannot be said to revolt or rebel against them, to 
whom they owe no more than seems good to themselves, and who 
are nothing of or by themselves more than other men.''"' 

The reciprocal obligations that exist between the 



CHAPTEK IX. 626 

governor and the governed, and the rights and duties 
of the magistrate as the representative of the people, 
are fully discussed hy the author in this last chapter 
of his work. He asserts the principle that a magis- 
trate can justly lay claim to no other pov^^er than 
what is conferred upon him by the people, his con- 
stituents, who elect him, and that by accepting his 
official trust, certain duties and obligations devolve 
upon him, prescribed by law, which, under no pre- 
tence, is to be disregarded. If the magistrate does 
presume to set the constitution and laws at defiance, 
he is to be restrained or deposed, by impeachment or 
otherwise, through the customary judicial or legisla- 
tive forms ; but if these are insufficient, either by 
reason of a defect in the constitution, or of the usurped 
power of the magistrate, than that the last remedy, 
the ultima ratio ^ revolution is justifiable. And that 
however difficult and dangerous this remedy may be, 
through any defect of the original constitution, yet, 
that when oppression renders it necessary, it must be 
tried. We take leave of this part of the subject 
without presenting any further extracts to illustrate 
Sidney's views in regard to it. An additional passage 
or two, from which some idea may be derived of the 
author's views regarding popular representation, and 
the powers, duties, and obligations of delegates of the 
people, will close our selections from these writings. 

No fto-ph that is not free can substitute delegates. — Chap. 
III., Sec. 44. 
" How full soever the power of any person or people may be, 



324 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

be or they are obliged to give only so mucli to their delegates as 
seems convenient to themselves or conducing to the ends they 
desire to attain ] but the delegate can have none except what is 
conferred upon him by his principal. If, therefore, the knights, 
citizens, and burgesses sent by the people of England to serve in 
parliament have a power, it must be more perfectly and fully in 
those that send them. But (as was proved in the last section) 
proclamations and other significations of the king's pleasure, are 
not laws to us. They are to be regulated by the law, not the law 
by them. They are to be considered only so far as they are con- 
formable to the laws, from which they receive all the strength 
that is in them, and can confer none upon it. We know no laws 
but our own statutes, and those immemorial customs established 
by the consent of the nation which may be, and often are, changed 
by us. The legislative power, therefore, that is exercised by the 
parliament, cannot be conferred by the writ of summons, hut must 
/he essentially and radically in the people, from whom their delegates 
and representatives have all that they have. But, says our author, 
' they must only choose, and trust those whom they choose, to do 
what they list, and that is as much liberty as many of us deserve 
for our irregular elections of burgesses.' This is ingeniously 
concluded. I take what servant I please, and when I have taken 
him I must suffer him to do what he pleases. But from whence 
should this necessity arise ? Why may not I take one to be my 
groom, another to be my cook, and keep them both to the offices 
for which I took them ? What law does herein restrain my right 1 
And if I am free in my private capacity to regulate my particular 
affairs according to my own discretion, and to allot to each servant 
his proper work, why have not I, with my associates, the freemen 
of England, the like liberty of directing and limiting the powers 
of the servants we employ in our public affairs ? Our author 
gives us reasons proportionable to his judgment : ' This were 
liberty with a mischief, and that of choosing only is as much as 
many of us deserve.' I have already proved that as far as our 
histories reach, we have had no princes or magistrates but such 
as we have made, and they have had no other powder but what we 



CHAPTER rx, 325 

have conferred upon them. They cannot be the judges of our 
merit who have no power but what we gave them, through an 
opinion they did or might deserve it ; they may distribute in par- 
cels to particulars that with which they are entrusted in the gross, 
but it is impossible that the public should depend absolutely upon 
those who are nothing above other men, except what they are 
made to be for and by the public." 

These views of popular representation, and the 
duties and obligations of the representative, are liberal 
and philosophical. The representative is not merely 
chosen and clothed with all the power he possesses by 
the people, but he is actually the servant of the people, 
their delegate, bound to respect their wishes and even 
obey their instructions, as a servant respects the 
wishes and obeys the instructions of the man who 
employs him. In the next chapter, Sidney farther 
discusses the obligations of the representative of the. 
people, and his duty to obey the laws he makes : — 

The legislative power is always arbitrary j and not to be trusted 
in the hands of any loho are not bound to obey the laws they 
make. — Chap. III., Sec. 45. 

" If it be objected that I am a defender of arbitrary powers, I 
confess I cannot comprehend how any society can be established 
or subsist without them, for the establishment of government is an 
arbitrary act, wholly depending on the will of men. The par- 
ticular forms and constitution, the whole series of the magistracy, 
together with the measure of power given to every one, and the 
rules by which they are to execute their charge are so also. 
Magna Charta, which comprehends our ancient laws, and all the 
subsequent statutes, were not sent from heaven, but made accord- 
ing to the will of men. If no men could have a power of mak- 
ing laws, none could ever have been made ', for all that are or 



326 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

have been in the world, except those given by God to the Israelites, 
were made by them — that is, they have exercised an arbitrary 
power in making that to be law which was not, or annulling that 
which was. The various laws and governments, which are or 
have been in several ages and places, are the product of various 
opinions in those who had the power of making them. This 
must necessarily be, unless a general rule be set to all ; for the 
judgments of men will vary if they are left to their liberty; and 
the variety that is found among them shows they are subject to no 
rule but that of their own, reason, by which they see what is fit to 
be embraced or avoided according to the several circumstances 
under w^bich they live. The authority that judges of these cir- 
cumstances is arbitrary, and the legislators show themselves to be 
more or less wise and good as they do rightly or not rightly exer- 
cise this power. The difference, therefore, between good and ill 
governments is not that those of one sort have an arbitrary power 
-vhich the other have not — for they all have it; but that those 
which are well constituted, place this power so as it may be bene- 
ficial to the people, and set such rules as are hardly to be trans- 
gressed, while those of the other sort fail in one or both these 
points." 

^ T'? w ^ ^ tP 

" I think I may justly say that an arbitrary power was never 
well placed in any men and their successors who were not obliged 
to obey the laws they should make. This was well understood 
by our Saxon ancestors. They made laws in their assemblies and 
councils of the nation ; but all those who proposed or assented to 
those laws, as soon as the assemblies were dissolved, were com- 
prehended under the power of them, as well as other men. They 
could do nothing to the prejudice of the nation that would not be 
as hurtful to those who were present, and their posterity, as to 
those who, by many accidents, might be absent. The Normans 
entered into, and continued in the same path. Our parliaments at 
this day are in the same condition. They may make prejudicial 
w^ars, ignominious treaties, and unjust laws; yet, when the ses- 
sion is ended, they must bear the burden as well as others, and 



CHAPTER IX. 327 

when they die the teeth of their children will be set on edge with 
the sour grapes they have eaten. But it is hard to delude or cor- 
rupt so many. Men do not, in matters of the highest importance, 
yield to slight temptations. No man serves the devil for nothing ; 
small wages will not content those who expose themselves to per- 
petual infamy, and the hatred of a nation for betraying their 
country. Our kings had no+ wherewithal to corrupt many till 
these last twenty years ; and the treachery of a few was not 
enough to pass a law. The union of many was not easily 
wrought, and there was nothing to tempt them to endeavor it, for 
they could make little advantage during the session, and were to 
be lost in the mass of the people, and prejudiced by their own 
laws as soon as it was ended. They could not in a short time 
reconcile their various interests or passions so as to combine toge- 
ther against the public ; and the former kings never went about 
it. We are beholden to Hyde, Clifford, and Danby, for all that 
has been done of that kind. They found a parliament full of 
lewd young men, chosen by a furious people, in spite of the Puri- 
tans, whose severity had distasted them. The weakest of all 
ministers had wit enough to understand that such as these might 
be easily deluded, corrupted, or bribed. Some were fond of their 
seats in parliament, and delighted to domineer over their neighbors 
by continuing in them ; others preferred the cajoleries of the 
court before the honor of performing their duty to the country 
that employed them. Some sought to relieve their ruined for- 
tunes, and were most forward to give the king a vast revenue, 
that from thence they might receive pensions ; others were glad 
of a temporary protection against their creditors. Many knew 
not what they did when they annulled the triennial act, voted the 
militia to be in the king, give him the excise, customs, chimney 
money, made the act for corporations by which the greatest part 
of the nation was brought under the power of the worst men in 
it, drunk or sober, passed the five mile act, and that for uniformity 
in the church. This emboldened the court to think of making 
parliaments to be the instruments of our slavery, which had in all 
ages past been the firmest pillars of our liberty. There might 



328 ALGEKNON SIDNEY. 

have been, perhaps, a possibility of preventing this pernicious 
mischief in the constitution of our government. But our brave 
ancestors could never think their posterity would degenerate into 
such baseness as to sell themselves and their country. But how 
great soever the danger may be, it is Jess than to put all into the 
hands of one man and his ministers. The hazard of being ruined 
by those who must perish with us, is not so much to be feared as 
by one who may enrich and strengthen himself by our destruc- 
tion. It is better to depend upon those who are under a possi- 
bility of being again corrupted, than upon one who applies him- 
self to corrupt them, because he cannot otherwise accomplish his 
designs. It were to be wished that our security were more cer-' 
tain ; but this being, under God, the best anchor we can have, it 
deserves to be preserved with all care, till one of a more unques- 
tionable strength be framed by the consent of the nation." 

The limits marked out for this work, will not per- 
mit us to make any farther selections from these writ- 
ings of Sidney. The foregoing are deemed sufficient 
to acquaint the reader generally with his views of gov- 
ernment and the nature of his political opinions. 
They show conclusively the firm and settled conviction 
of an enlightened and powerful intellect, which, after 
mature reflection, had embraced the doctrines of po- 
pular liberty, as the elementary truths of political 
science, and having once embraced them, cherished 
them with the same faith that lighted the path of 
G-allileo to his dungeon, and sustained him against the 
ignorance, the incredulity, the intolerance of his age. 
The political theories of Sidney in his day in England 
met with the same reception as did the magnificent 
discoveries of G-allileo in Europe. The heresy of the 
philosopher was rewarded with a dungeon ; the treason 



CHAPTEE IX. 329 

of the stateman with the scaffoJd. And yet in a few 
years the speculations of Sidney were no longer vision- 
ary theories ; in a few years men wondered in amaze- 
ment that a system like Grallileo's should have ever 
encountered opposition. Such is the history of the 
progress of truth. 

Sidney's opposition to the government of Charles II. 
has sometimes been attributed to his deep-rooted ani- 
mosity to the Stuart family. This is a mistake, and 
in its origin was doubtless a calumny. No man ever 
acted more directly from a sincere and honest convic- 
tion, or more tenaciously adhered to principle. He 
was from principle and conviction a friend of liberal 
institutions, and an enemy of absolute monarchy. 
His contemporary, Bishop Burnet, who well knew his 
opinions, declares that he was " stiff to all republican 
principles," and attributes his opposition to Cromwell 
solely to his hatred to '< everything that looked like a 
monarchy." In short, Sidney's opinions were formed, 
and his course of action guided not by foolish preju- 
dice, or selfish animosities, but by the honest convic- 
tions of conscience, and the clear dictates of right and 
duty. 

While the political opinions of Sidney have been 
misunderstood, his religious sentiments and the nature 
of his religious professions, have been much misrepre- 
sented. Entirely free from that wild, religious enthu- 
siasm which was so deeply impressed upon characters 
like those of Harrison and Hugh Peters, and many of 
the Puritans, yet it cannot be denied that Sidney was 



^^^ ALGERNON SIDNEY. 



a sincere Christian. Hume, with an almost inexcusa- 
ble ignorance, classes him with Harrington, Neville, 
and Challoner, the deists, who denied the truth of 
revelation, and whose sole object in co-operating with 
the Independents was political liberty. That Hume is 
not less mistaken in this, than in many other statements 
respecting the English republicans, is evident from the 
remark of Bishop Burnet, who knew Sidney well, and 
who says of him : He seemed to be a Christian, but in 
a particular form of his own ; he thought it was to 
be like a divine philosophy of the mind." Burnet 
adds that he was opposed to external forms of public 
worship and to '' everything that looked like a 
church;" but the worthy bishop doubtless uses the 
term church in what he conceives to be its true accep- 
tation, and not as applicable to the chapels and con- 
venticles of the dissenters. In this sense the remark 
might be equally true of Vane, in whose '' preaching 
and praying" Burnet found such a " peculiar dark- 
ness." And yet Yane was known to be thoroughly 
imbued with the doctrines of Calvin. The religbus 
opinions of Sidney, like Vane's, doubtless conformed in 
the main, to the theology of Geneva, but like Vane 
he was an Independent, opposed to the hierarchy of 
the Church of England, and unalterably opposed to 
the establishment by law of any particular creed or 
form of worship. In other words, he desired to estab- 
lish that primary doctrine of free government univer- 
SAL TOLERATION, sccuring to cvcry man full freedom 
of conscience and freedom of intellect, and keeping 



CHAPTER IX. 331 

the Church, as an institution, entirely separate 
and distinct from the state. These views were 
shared by all the leading republicans — by those 
w^ho professed, as well as those who manifested 
little regard, for the truths of religion — by Cromwell, 
Bradshaw, and St. John, as well as by Marten, Chal- 
loner and Harrington. They prove that the Indepen- 
dents, as statesmen, were in advance of their age in 
just conceptions of the principles of free government, 
and in comprehending the political rights of mankind. 
The charge of scepticism is also refuted by the words 
and writings which Sidney left behind him. His dis- 
courses contain frequent illustrations from the Scrip- 
tures, both the Old and New Testaments. These were 
written many years before his death. That his be- 
lief remained unshaken down to the hour of his execu- 
tion, is apparent from his conduct and confessions. 
In his last hours he sent for several dissenting minis- 
ters, to whom he expressed deep penitence for 
whatever sins he had committed, and a firm confi- 
dence and hope in the mercies of God. His last pub- 
lic declaration, left to the world in the day of his 
death, contains his solemn recognition of the truths of 
Christianity : " I lived in this belief and am about to 
die for it. I know that my Redeemer lives ; and as 
he has, in a great measure, upheld me in the day of 
my calamity, I hope that he v/ill still uphold me by 
his spirit in this last moment, and giving me grace to 
glorify him in my death, receive me into the glory 



832 ALGERNON SIDNEY. 

prepared for those that fear him, when my body shall 
be dissolved." 

The private character of this illustrious man, was 
as exemplary as his public was upright and indepen- 
dent. It has been truly said of him, that a more 
honorable or a higher moral character did not exist ; 
that he had all the elevation and dignity of mind of 
a man who was untainted with the profligate vices of 
the age in which he lived ; that he was a man of the 
strictest veracity, and incapable of uttering a false- 
hood to save his life. It is not meant by this that 
Sidney's was a perfect character ; that he was exempt 
from the common frailties of humanity, or that his 
philosophy elevated him above those passions and 
weaknesses to which even the wisest and best of 
mankind are subject. Such was by no means the 
case. Like all other men, he had his imperfections 
and his faults. He was hasty, irascible, and impe- 
rious in temper, tenacious of his opinions, even to 
obstinacy, and impatient of contradiction. Bishop 
Burnet mentions his " rough and boisterous temper," 
but he also speaks of his sincerity and his frankness of 
disposition. In his manners he was not unfrequently 
austere and cold, and he sometimes gave way to des- 
pondency of mind ; but he was possessed of a most 
insinuating address, and of extraordinary colloquial 
power — or as Jeffries sneeringly characterized it — " a 
luxuriant way of talking," which never failed to 
please and fascinate whenever he chose to employ it. 
His minor faults of temper and disposition, are lost in 



CHAPTER IX. 333 

the contemplation of those nobler attributes and manly 
virtues which gave such lustre to his character. 
While it certainly should not be the aim of the biogra- 
pher, who seeks to delineate correctly the character of 
his subject, to conceal or attempt to extenuate its 
blemishes or faults, it is yet his province to dwell with 
most satisfaction, and to present most prominently 
those attributes which dignify and those virtues which 
ennoble it. The end of biography is finely expressed 
by Dr. Channing to be " to give immortality to virtue, 
and to call forth present admiration towards those who 
have shed splendor on past ages." 

In a spirit of sympathy with the subject, which, 
perhaps, needs no apology, I have thus attempted to 
trace the career and sketch the character of Algfer- 
non Sidney. Errors may well be passed over in 
silence and his faults forgotten, where so much re- 
mains to be admired and venerated. One of the 
noblest martyrs of that liberty which the progress of 
civilization and the developments of time seem to point 
out as the heritage of the Anglo-Saxon race. His were 
virtues which deserve immortality, and his a name 
which will go down with honor to remote generations 
of men. The man dies, the principles he cherished 
are immortal. That cause for which Sidney suffered, 
proscribed in his day, has been gloriously vindicated 
in ours. The doctrines of resistance to oppression — 
of popular sovereignty — of the inalienable right of \ 
mankind to intellectual and moral, to civil and reli- 1 
gious freedom — of which he was the champion in life, 



k" 



334 ALGEENON SIDNEY. 

and in death the martyr, have become the foundation 
and corner stone of those democratic institutions 
which since his day have sprung up in the New 
World. No nobler cenotaph than the free institutions 
of America can be reared to the memory of the dust 
which sleeps in its ancestral vault at Penshurst. No 
more glorious epitaph can be written for the patriot 
martyr than that which so eloquently speaks in the 
silent workings of those institutions. Surely while 
they endure, and while the doctrines which Sidney 
taught shall continue to be regarded as the elementary 
truths of our political creed, it may with truth be said 
that the noble blood shed in their defence on Tower, 
Hill has not been spilled in vain. 

THE END. 



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